Fallout: The Homefront
by AussieNick
Summary: In 2277, two-hundred years after an atomic war set the world on fire, Vault 101 finally reopens, and it's dwellers emerge to confront the horrors of the Capital Wasteland.
1. Chapter 1-Act 1 Beginning

_May 30th, 2071, Vault 101_

The alarm blared at 6:30 in the morning to wake me up. After over a decade of that same intrusive tone being the first sound of the day, I usually responded with a groan. But today was different. Today, classes were over, and it would stay that way until August. I leaped out of bed and put on a fresh Vault 101 jumpsuit before brushing my teeth in the men's bathroom. Only a handful of apartments in Vault 101 had actual bathrooms, so bathrooms were shared, but at least families got their own showers.

The cafeteria was only quarter-full even with the entire Vault population occupying it. It was no secret to anyone that Vault 101 had been designed to hold 1000 residents and that the current population had been reduced to little over 200. It seemed even smaller when you realized that a lot of people were related in some way. For instance, the two biggest families in the Vault; the Kendalls and the Macks, were related by blood. Two of Stanley Armstrong's three daughters, Mary Kendall and Gloria Mack, were the mothers of most of the children I knew. All in all, I could count about ten people who were related to Stanley, the head of maintenance. My head hurt whenever I thought about it, and I was always making mental notes to draw up a family tree or something.

The minors of the Vault were already wide awake to enjoy the 'summer break' as it was called. Of course, there was no such thing as summer or winter down here, it was just what they used to call the end of the school year before the Great War.

My best friend, Amata, was sitting with Christine Kendall. Since there were only three girls in the class, Christine was the only girl Amata was really friends with. I didn't mind Christine. She was nice enough (and more than pretty enough), but she never really took much interest in me. I approached the table, and Christine in her everlasting lack of interest, said to Amata, "See you later."

"Nice to see you too," I muttered sarcastically to Christine's back. Amata giggled.

"Don't take it personally," she said as I sat down. "She just doesn't think it could work between you two."

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting down. "She's barely ever spoken to me."

"So you are interested in her?" said Amata, smirking.

"You're never gonna let that joke die, are you?" I said with a sigh. Amata had never let me hear the end of that one joke I made during my tenth birthday party.

 _"Bet you can't guess what I got you for your birthday!"_

 _"Uh... a date with Christine Kendall?"_

 _"Gross! I didn't even think you liked girls!"_

She'd never forgotten that one.

"Do you have to do work today?" Amata asked.

"A few hours of maintenance with Stanley, and that's all for today. What did I do to piss your dad off this time?"

"Nothing, probably. He just..."

Amata trailed off, and look uncertain.

"What?" I asked, motioning for her to go on.

"Well," she said hesitantly. "I think it's your father. I've heard my dad telling him off for doing some king of experiment on water samples or something like that. He threatened to throw your dad out of the Vault."

"Surely not!" I said in disbelief. Not even the overbearing Overseer would throw a human being out of the Vault. Was that even possible? I'd only caught a glimpse of the big Vault door once. It was cog-shaped and, by the look of the machine hanging from the wall behind it and the treads next to the door, was meant to slide backward and to the side to allow for entry or exit. But could it even open? And if so, what would happen? They always told us that the surface was too irradiated for human life to exist, so would all the radiation just flown in and kill us all?

Amata snapped me out of my thoughts by saying, "Ryan, please don't do anything dangerous. I know how my father can be, but he can be even worse when he thinks he has too. And he's certainly not going to be frightened by a thirteen-year-old."

* * *

 _July 31st, 2274, Vault 101_

I'd been losing more and more sleep by the night, and waking up in a state of panic. Even after minutes of calming down, I was always leaving the apartment with my hair uncombed and my jumpsuit half unzipped. No matter how much time I spent with Amata, or buried in a book, or secretly firing my BB gun in the makeshift target room my dad had made for me as a birthday gift, I couldn't calm myself. In three days, I'd be finding out the job I'd be doing down in the Vault for the rest of my life.

All anyone in the class had been talking about for days was the goddamned G.O.A.T. It was always G.O.A.T this or G.O.A.T that. All it did was remind me of how goddamned boring it was to live in a glorified hole in the ground. That was all a Vault was, really; a glorified hole buried under the surface to protect from the horrors that had occured on Ocbtober 23rd, 2077, when the two-hour long war left the planet burned by nuclear fire. Throw in a few bits of pre-war furniture and technology, and you had a decent living space. The only downside was that you, and your children, and their children, would never see the surface. You'd be born in the Vault, live in the Vault, and die in the Vault.

Everyone who wasn't part of Butch DeLoria's stupid Tunnel Snakes gang was anxious, including Amata. I'd seen her in the classes leading up to our exams. Her hands were always shaking and sweaty, which made her writing nearly unreadable. Mr Brotch had had the decency to not point it out in front of the class, which was a relief. Those goddamn Tunnel Snakes would tease her for anything they could. And they were always pressing me for dirt to use on her. She'd told me once that she was sensitive over her weight, to which I replied, "Don't be. The last thing you want is to be starving yourself to stay thin."

Every time they came near me, pestering me for something to hold over her head, I'd give them the finger and tell them to fuck off. Still, they always came back.

I started feeling sick to my stomach after every meal, and struggled to keep food down. My father gave me a few pills that were meant to help with digestion, but those came up with the revolting mix of food. Finally, nobody bothered to do anything but wait for it to be over.

* * *

 _August 3rd, 2274, Vault 101_

I handed the finished G.O.A.T paper to Mr. Brotch, who looked it over carefully and said, "Apparently you're management material. You're going to be trained as a Shift Supervisor."

He rubbed his chin and continued, "Could I be talking to the next Overseer? Stranger things have happened. You can go now, Ryan."

 _Yeah, that's real likely,_ I thought sarcastically.

As I left the room, I heard Wally Mack bragging about how he knew how to get his ideal job. In response Mr. Brotch said, "Well I'll be damned, that little so and so. Wish I'd thought of that when I was sixteen."

I had to hide a laugh at that. Mr. Brotch was good at being funny without intending it.

"What did you get?" Amata asked in the cafeteria afterwards.

"Shift Supervisor," I said, without much enthusiasm. "Guess it could be worse."

"Hey, that's not so bad," Amata offered, taking a bite from her sandwich. "Besides, you can order people to call you 'boss'!"

Little did I know that I'd one day be in charge of more than just shifts.

* * *

"Hey, wake up!" someone said. "Ryan, you need to wake up!"

My eyes opened, then blinked at the light above me.

"Huh?" I said, sitting up on my bed. "Amata?"

"You got to get up," Amata said urgently, "Now."

"Hmm, that's weird," I joked. "I was just dreaming about you."

Amata sighed. "This isn't a joke. My dad's gone insane!"

I dropped the stupid smile off my face immediately, and stood up. "What's going on?"

"My dad... he's locked himself in his officer with a few security guards," Amata said quickly. "He was arguing with your father or something, and Jonas tried to intervene, and Officer Mack..."

She didn't need to finish. I understood.

"So what's happening now?" I asked, after a solemn silence. As if in response, the sounds of shouting and rioting drifted over, along with the occasional gunshot.

"Apparently one of the Officers leaked reports on my father's terminal from about 30 years ago," Amata explained. "I didn't read them, but Butch says they mention a security team leaving the Vault and visiting a nearby town."

I frowned. "That's... not possible," I said. "Unless..."

"Unless what we've been told isn't true," Amata finished, grimacing. "If those reports are true, then we've been lied to our entire lives."

I paused, trying to comprehend the thought. We'd always been told that the surface was too irradiated for life to exist, and would remain that way long after we died. Now, the idea that it had been a lie, that all the hopelessness of living in a Vault had been unnecessary. It was a strange thought.

The sounds of shouting brought me back to reality. I made out the voice of Butch DeLoria screaming, "Help! My mom's being attacked!"

I gave a half-hearted groan, but got up to see what was happening nonetheless. I wasn't going to do Butch any favors, but his mother Ellen had always been good to me.

"Please, you gotta help me!" Butch said the minute he saw me. "My mom's trapped in our apartment with a bunch of radroaches!"

Despite the situation, I couldn't keep the small smirk off my face. "Butch asking me for help? I'm shocked."

"Yeah whatever," Butch said desperately. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Okay, fine Butch. Lead the way."

Butch led me over to his apartment, Amata trailing behind us. I heard a scream coming from the room. Looking in the window, I saw Ellen DeLoria struggling to fend off three of the ugly brown roaches. I didn't hesitate to run into the room.

"Hold still!" I said to her, whacking each radroach off of her with my arm. I stomped on them for good measure.

"Thank you," said Ellen weakly. "Come over and have a drink with me."

"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied. I'd tried alcohol once when I turned 18, and immediately disliked it, even more so when I saw Allen Mack after getting drunk.

"We did it!" Butch exclaimed like a child, "My mom's gonna be okay! You're the best friend I ever had, man!"

While I stood there in amazement, Butch went over to the dresser and pulled out something. When he handed it to me, I saw that it was a Tunnel Snakes jacket.

"I know it's not much," admitted Butch. "But I want you to have it. And Amata, I'm sorry for all the shit I've given you. I swear I'll drop the act."

"Uh...thanks Butch," Amata replied awkwardly while I laughed. Despite the situation, my spirits were lifted. Butch and I had been enemies since we were kids, and now he was calling me a friend. As a sign of thanks, I donned the fancy leather jacket.

"Man, I don't look to bad in this," I joked, looking at my reflection in the window.

"Yeah, we just need to fix up the hair!" Butch added, laughing. Amata rolled her eyes.

"You two done?"

"Yeah yeah," Butch said. "Alright, follow me to the diner, you guys. The others are all there."

The 'others' turned out to be Paul Hannon Jr, Christine Kendall, Officer Gomez and his son Freddie, Stanley, and Susie Mack. As well as Andy, the Vault's resident Mr Handy robot.

"Yo Butch!" said Paul immediately. "Why are these two losers with you?"

"Hey, easy brother," Butch replied, "These guys are cool with us."

"If you say so Butch."

"So what's happening?" I asked, to nobody in particular. "And where's my dad?"

The others looked at each other. Christine and Susie exchanged a sad glance. Something wasn't right...

"Guys," I said, fearing what they'd tell me. "Where is my father?"

"I'm sorry, Ryan," said Susie Mack, "The Overseer has him."

Without a word, I turned to leave with the intention of confronting the Overseer, but Butch blocked my way. "Whoa, slow down! Security's not gonna just let you waltz on up to the Overseer's office. They got the entire atrium locked down."

"I saw it too," piped up Susie Mack. "My idiot brothers are up there guarding the place with _guns._ Thank God I inherited my mother's decency."

"I tried to tell my father not to go up there," added Christine. "But he wouldn't listen! Kept going on about his 'duty' to the Overseer!"

I lowered myself into a booth, holding my head in my hands, feeling like my entire world was crumbling around me. Jonas was dead, my father was being held captive by the Overseer, and I'd been lied to my entire life.

I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder, and looked up to see Officer Gomez. "Hang in there kid," he told me. "We'll get through this."

"Is it true?" I asked him. "About the outside?"

Gomez gave a small sigh, and nodded.

"I've felt sick to my stomach for years," Stanley spoke up. "Having to lie to my own grandchildren. It's horrible, what the Overseer's done to us."

I slowed down my breathing and clutched the table for support. When I felt calm enough, I stood back up and said, "So what happens now?"

"My dad's been talking with Officer Kendall on the intercom," explained Freddie. "Kendall's been reasonable at least. He says we should just turn ourselves in before we make things worse."

"John means well," Gomez said. "But he doesn't think twice about the orders he's given. In fact, most of the Security Officers have that problem."

"Well, we obviously can't stay down here forever," I said.

"Yeah, but we do we do?" Paul countered. "Officer Kendall is the only one up there who won't shoot us on sight, and the Overseer has your dad and a few others held captive. He's already had Jonas killed-"

"Well, he did a lousy job," said a weak voice from behind me. I turned around to see Jonas, my father's assistant. His white lab coat was covered in blood, his glasses were cracked, and he was leaning on the wall to remain upright, a massive crimson cut on his forehead.

"Jesus Christ," I said as Stanley and Gomez held Jonas lie down on the diner seat. "I thought they'd beaten the life out of you."

"They almost did," rasped Jonas. "But Officer Mack was too busy being enraged to check if he'd finished the job. They took James up to the office."

I finally noticed the alarms blaring faintly, and the busted speaker built into the wall above the door.

"What we need," I finally said. "is for the Security Guards to back off so that we can have a face-to-face confrontation with the Overseer."

"Yeah, good luck with that," replied Butch. "The Overseer's ordered everyone back to their quarters and said that anyone who doesn't obey will be shot. The only option is to try and jump the guards in the atrium."

"That's suicide Butch," piped up Susie. "They've got N99's and we'e got what? Nuka Cola bottles?"

"Susie's right, Butch," I added. "Charging in there is only gonna get people killed. We need to be diplomatic. So who's least likely to get shot up there?"

Everyone's eyes immediately went to Amata, who sighed. "Of course."

"The Overseer is your father," Gomez pointed out. "Out of all of us, you're the only one who even has a chance of getting through to him. I'll go up with you; I might be able to keep the officers at bay."

"So this is the plan?" Christine asked, unimpressed. "You two?"

"Well..." Gomez hesitated. "I guess I could use another guy up there, but I'm the only one here with firearm training."

"That's not exactly true," I said slowly, standing up. "My dad gave me a BB gun when I was ten, and I've been using it for years. I know it's not the real thing, but it's the best I got."

Gomez hesitated, biting his lip. Then, finally, he said. "It'll do, I guess. Alright, take this, and don't use it unless you have too."

He handed me a second N99 and 30 10mm rounds.

* * *

"Gomez, what the hell is this?" said Officer Richards as we reached the aitrum. "Why the hell did you give that kid a gun?!"

"Easy, Richards," said Gomez, holding his hands out. "These two are with me. We're going to talk to the Overseer. Just don't shoot us, and nobody needs to get hurt."

Richards sighed and holstered his weapon. As we moved past him, he told us, "The Overseer's gone mad. He's in the jail with the doctor. Be careful up there."

I tried not to look afraid as we crossed over the staircase leading to the upper floor, but it was difficult when the officer's all had their guns trained on me. I was glad to get to the safety of the stairwell, which was covered.

"Don't make any sudden moves," Gomez told us as we made our way to the jail cell. "Follow my lead, and we'll get through this."

We passed through the maintenance room, and I saw the body of Floyd Lewis, one of our engineers, lying by a control console and covered in radroach bites.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered as we walked past.

The Overseer had locked himself in the security office with Officer Steve Mack and Security Chief Hannon, along with his hostages; my father, Mary Kendall (Christine's mother), Beatrice Armstrong (Stanley's daughter), and Mary Holden.

"Please, we didn't do anything!" Mary Kendall was saying. "Let us talk to them! They're just scared!"

"They are traitors to the Vault!" the Overseer snapped, brandishing a pistol. "Selfish and insubordinate!"

"Alphonse, think about this for a minute," my dad reasoned. "Just stop this before more people get hurt!"

"You will address me by my proper title, Dr Moore!" the Overseer said. "You never did have any respect for authority. I should never have let you and your brat son into this Vault!"

I frowned. What did he mean? We'd both been born in the Vault, right?

I wasn't able to dwell on the thought for long, because Gomez had opened the door and stepped inside the room. Mack raised his gun.

"Stand down Mack!" Gomez warned, bring his pistol up, as did I. "We don't want trouble!"

"And yet you bring this brat-" the Overseer pointed at me. "-up here? And Amata, what are you doing here? Go wait in my office where it's safe."

"No dad," Amata replied, shaking her head, "This has to stop."

"We want the fighting to end," I said firmly. "I know about the scouting reports on your terminal. You've been lying to us our entire lives!"

"Yes, I have!" the Overseer shot back. "For the safety of this Vault, I ensured that nobody would compromise our security by trying to leave!"

"'For the safety of the Vault'?" Amata said in astonishment. "Shooting people for being fed up with your rules? Is that for safety?!"

"Yes Amata, it is," the Over replied firmly. "When you're Overseer, you'll see that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and I will not compromise the safety of the Vault because a few people fancy a wasteland vacation!"

"The Vault won't survive like this!" my dad spoke up while everyone turned to listen. "Our population has dropped in the last two hundred years, Alphonse. We've got maybe a generation left before people starting inbreeding, and that's going to be more trouble than what's outside the Vault!"

The Overseer kept his scowl on, but under it, I saw a glimmer of doubt enter his eye.

"We've spent our entire lives in here Dad," Amata said. "We're tired of it. There's an entire world out there that we won't see unless something changes. For better or for worse, please just let us make our own choices."

The Overseer stood rooted to the spot. The anxiety in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Nobody dared to breath. Finally, the Overseer lowered his gun.

"Well..." he muttered in a defeated way. "Perhaps I have been too overbearing-"

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Gomez went down clutching shoulder, his jumpsuit turning crimson. I pulled Amata down with me to dodge the hail of gunfire, and I saw Allen and Wally Mack firing 10mm rounds randomly.

"No! Hold your fire!" the Overseer shouted in vain. I kept my head down, gripping Amata's hand in my own. Finally, the gunfire stopped.

 _Let it be over. Please let it be over._

"Ryan? Get up, we have to go."

Someone pulled me to my feet. I lifted my head up and saw that it was my father. People moved around me, their faces indistinguishable. I made out the Overseer and Gomez, both lying face down and groaning. Gomez had suffered a wound to his left shoulder, but was letting out a quiet groan. The Overseer was holding his side in pain. Through his hands I could see a gash going through his jumpsuit. A bullet has brushed him.

"Oh God..." Amata said shakily, running over to her injured father. "James... please help him!"

"It's not bad," the Overseer told his daughter. "Just hurts like hell."

Stanley and Officer Kendall came rushing into the room to help Gomez while my father helped the Overseer onto his feet.

The clinic was deserted when we arrived, carrying the injured Overseer and Gomez with us.

"Ryan," my father said as Stanley and Kendall lowered Gomez onto a bed. "You deal with the Overseer. I'll patch up Gomez."

My father had secretly, and without the Overseer's permission, taught me all he could about handling wounds. I helped him lower the Overseer into a chair, and checked the wound.

"Can you help him?" asked Amata in a terrified voice, kneeling beside her father.

"He'll be fine," I told her reassuringly. "The bullet only grazed him."

For a graze wound, there was a lot of blood. I cleaned and bandaged the wound, and gave him Med-X for the pain.

"You'll be alright," I reported finally, standing up. "The best thing you can do right now is rest. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think so..." the Overseer said weakly, pushing himself out of the chair. I frowned, wondering if the injury was more serious than I'd thought.

 _No point worrying about it now,_ a voice inside of me said. _Just do what you can._

The Overseer made his way over to the chair while Amata and I stood by, ready to steady him should his legs fail him. He made his way to the clinic bed without trouble, and lay down, letting out a sigh of relief before drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you," Amata said, pulling me aside. "I know how terrible my dad has been to you over the years, and you helped him anyway. I can't thank you enough."

"It was the right thing to do," I told her. It was a principle I'd always lived with; all life is precious, even if it seems squandered.

We heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see Freddie Gomez running towards the clinic.

"My father?" he asked breathlessly.

"He's fine, Freddie," I assured him. "My dad's working on him now. Best to just give him some room."

"Actually, I'm already done," my father had materialized in the clinic doorway. "Best to just let him rest for now."

More and more people arrived to hear about the Overseer and Gomez. Christine Kendall, Butch, Susie Mack, Paul Hannon, Beatrice Armstrong, the entire Vault Security team (excluding Steve Mack), and Mr Brotch all showed up for news.

"They're both fine!" I said, getting exasperated after what must have been the sixth time. "So can anyone tell me what happened?"

"Allen and Steve Mack stormed the security office when they heard shouting," Officer Park told me. "Steve and Allen are holed up by the entrance, and God knows where Wally is."

I'd forgotten about Wally Mack, the third of the Tunnel Snakes. He'd always been the most unpleasant of the three, detested even by his own sister. His father Allen and brother Steve were just as bad. Steve had easily been the most sadistic of Vault 101's Security team. Allen Mack had had a drinking problem for as long as anyone could remember, as it was widely known that the violent shouting that occasionally rang through the Vault's upper level came from the Mack family apartments.

"So what happens now?" I asked Officer Kendall after the crown departed.

Kendall considered the question for a moment. "Well," he said finally. "We can probably assume that Alphonse Almodovar's time as Overseer is over. He knows he did wrong, and maybe he does care for this Vault in his own way, but we need a leader who can make rational decisions and listen to reason in tense situations. I know Alphonse always envisioned Amata stepping up to the role, but I'm not sure she's ready."

"Why not?"

"Well she's only nineteen, for one thing," Kendall pointed out. "Although age isn't the biggest concern. She's a little bit too emotional. We need someone with the mental capacity to keep a cool head in the most stressful situations."

He gave me a funny look, which told me everything I had to know.

"Me?" I said through fits of laughter. "Really? I'd be a _shit_ Overseer!"

"So sure about that?" Kendall said with a small smile. "Your father was held hostage, and from what I've heard you kept a level head through it all. I think you'd make a great Overseer."

Two loud gunshots brought us back to reality. I heard screaming down the hall, and people running in all directions. At the far end, firing his N99 wildly, was Steve Mack.

"Mack!" Kendall shouted, his gun raised. "Put the gun down!"

Steve looked for a moment like he hadn't heard him, but after a moment, he dropped the gun to the floor, glowering at Kendall.

"Just hold still Mack," Kendall warned as a crowd formed around the scene. "Everyone step back please!"

Nobody bothered to obey or enforce that rule. Security guards arresting security guards wasn't something that happened frequently in the Vault. In fact, I couldn't remember ever hearing about something of the sort happening in the last 200 years.

Kendall stepped around Mack to cuff him, but Mack stuck his foot out to the side and tripped Kendall. In barely and second, Mack had picked up the gun and aimed it widely at any target, who turned out to be...Amata.

Without thought, I charged forward, knocking Mack off-balance right as he discharged the gun. Mack staggered against the wall and fell to the floor. What I did next seemed more like animal instinct that a rational decision. I quickly grabbed the discarded pistol, placed the barrel of the gun over Mack's forehead, and fired a single shot. A tidal wave of red covered me, and I heard several people scream. I stood there, blinking blood out of my eyes, and let the gun fall out of my limp hand.

"Ryan..." said someone.

I turned around, my eyes resting on Amata, who looked as shocked as I felt. Then, I saw Paul Hannon next to her, his eyes wide, clutching at the gunshot wound in his stomach, from which blood was dripping.

"Oh God," I managed to whisper. What had I done?

"Move! Out of the way!" shouted a voice I did not want to hear. Security Chief Paul Hannon, Paul Jr's father. He pushed through the crowd, stopping like a 'deer caught in headlights' (as the old saying goes) at the scene. Paul Hannon Jr had collapsed, and now lay still, a dark red stain spreading around him. Security Chief Hannom's face turn from one of shock to sorrow to rage, all in a matter of seconds. He rounded on me.

"You've murdered my son," he hissed, venom in every word. "You're dead, you little shit!"

I couldn't even react to Hannon raising his baton and bringing it down on me, hitting me across the face. I went down, my face stinging. I registered, in my dazed state, sounds of shouting and fighting. Then the world went back and I passed out.

* * *

I awoke on a clinic bed later on, staring up at the cold steel ceiling. The lights had been repaired, and everything was silent. My head throbbed, and I raised a hand groggily my forehead. I tried to sit up, but the entire room seemed to move around. I closed my eyes, that helped.

"Hello?" I called out.

"Ah," said a weak voice. "You're awake."

When I felt confident enough I opened my eyes and looked for the source of the voice.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I can't remember the details," the Overseer replied. "But James told me you blacked out while he was struggling with Hannon. Good God, that man looked insane."

He shuddered slightly. "Amata was here earlier."

"When?" I asked him.

"Yesterday."

I frowned. How long had I been out?

"How's she feeling?"

"Better," the Overseer told me, sitting up. "She was a bit shaken by what happened, but she's glad that nobody else died."

He rubbed his forehead a bit and continued, "I guess I owe you my thanks as well. Had Allen and Steve Mack not chosen to run gung-ho into the situation, we might have come to a peaceful solution. I've had a lot of time to think and...well... I've decided that it would be best if I stepped down as Overseer."

"I don't understand, sir," I said politely. I could already guess where he was going with this.

"There's no need to call me 'sir' anymore. Alphonse will do."

"I don't understand... Alphonse," I corrected myself. It was very odd to be addressing the former Overseer by his first name.

Don't you see, Ryan?" Alphonse said. "You showed me the biggest error I made as Overseer; I was so certain that isolation and social engineering was the only way to keep this Vault safe that I became disconnected from the people I thought I was saving. I prevented them from living like humans were meant to, and almost destroyed our community in the process. I never would have imagined it, but letting you into the Vault saved us."

I frowned, remembering what Alphonse had said to my father. He picked up on my silence.

"Ah, I see he didn't tell you," he said. "Well, I'm not the right person to tell you. That's a discussion for you and your father to have. Right now, we have other matters."

"Hannon," I said immediately, "I doubt he's security chief after what happened."

Alphonse nodded. "Since the Vault doesn't have an Overseer at the moment, that leaves two positions open. A three-person council has formed to deal with the leadership issue, but it's only a short-term solution. What this Vault needs is a new Overseer, and soon."

"Will the council elect the Overseer?"

"Dear God no," Alphonse said, scoffing. "The recent riot proved that the people shouldn't have their voices dismissed so easily. My successor will be elected by popular vote, like the old democratic nations did."

He paused, as if unsure whether or not to continue, then said. "There's a lot of people considering you for the position."

This was getting familiar.

"Funny thing is," I told him. "Officer Kendall told me I'd make a good Overseer right before Mack opened fire."

"He's not wrong," noted Alphonse. "You acted quickly to a situation that would leave most people rooted to the spot. What you did took guts, which is one thing any leader should have."

I wasn't sure how to respond to any of it. Finally, I said, "You've detested me for years, and now you're reccomending me as Overseer instead of your daughter?"

"Like I said," Alphonse replied, lying back down on his bed. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've become to disconnected with my daughter. Perhaps it would be better if neither of us held the position, so that we might be able to communicate as human beings."

The door opened with a hiss, and my father walked in.

"Ah, you're awake," he said with a smile. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit with a hammer," I replied. "But I'm okay."

"I figured you would," James said. "Alphonse, have you told him?"

"Yeah," the Overseer replied. "He knows."

"Know what?" I asked, ignoring the fact that James and the former Overseer were on a first name basis now.

"The election," my father replied. "I'm assuming you know that more than a few people want you to take the position of Overseer?"

"So I've been told," I replied. "How long was I out?"

"3 days," my father replied. "The election's in a couple of days. You should be walking by then."

* * *

Actually, I was walking by that afternoon. I didn't go far; only around the clinic for a few minutes. My head still throbbed a little, but that was the least of my worries. I spent my time considering what Alphonse and my father had said. I didn't quite know what to think about the idea of becoming Overseer. It was an interesting thought, but I'd never considered it a possibility. Now that that was changing, I had to actually think about if I wanted it. There was a reason you didn't just get given the position of Overseer, after all. It wouldn't be an easy job, and I had no idea if I could actually live up to the position. I understood that people had confidence in me because of what happened during the roach infestation, but would I be able to make a decision, knowing that my actions could doom everyone in the Vault? I shuddered at the thought.

Amata came to visit the day after I woke up. She looked tired, and a bit sickly, but smiled when she saw me awake.

"It's good to see you," she said, the exhaustion obvious in her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I admitted. "Walking's not a problem now, and my dad says the headache should be gone by tomorrow."

"That's good to hear. Listen, can we talk in private?"

"Sure," I said, a little confused. I pulled myself onto my feet, and followed her out. Amata stayed close, maybe worried that I'd fall over, but walking was fine now. As we left, I could have sworn I'd seen her father give her a warning look.

"So what's up?" I asked, leaning on the wall to steady myself.

"You've heard that I've been acting as Overseer until a permanent leader is chosen?" she asked me.

I nodded. "How are you holding up?"

She sighed, and said, "It's exhausting, but someone had to do it. Anyway, I was going through the Overseer's terminal up in the office, and I found those supposed scouting reports."

"So it's true then?" I said. "The world really is survivable?"

Yes," admitted Amata. "I ran my own tests to be sure. The air outside is breathable, and there are only small pockets of radiation in the vicinity. My dad... he..."

She looked betrayed. "He lied to us."

I was about to agree with her, but instead I said, "Could your father have simply been wrong?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "He's smarter than that. He knew it was safe to go out there and he lied. What was he thinking?!"

I glanced over at the clinic, fearful that her father had heard. Evidently not.

Amata, I..."

"I just don't get it!" she said, looking tearful. "How could he lie to us, and me, like this?"

I put a hand on her shoulder. Her breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling. I was stunned; I'd never seen her like this.

"Listen," I said. "When I woke up yesterday, your dad mentioned that he felt his role as Overseer was distancing you two from each other. Now on offense, I'm not the biggest fan of your father, but I think he really does care about you, and this Vault."

I pulled her closer into a hug. "I don't know what's going to happen, Amata. But I promise you that, no matter what, we'll stick together until the end."

* * *

I'd been on good terms with (almost) everyone in the Vault. Aside from Butch and his 'gang', I didn't have a problem with anyone else. But as the election approached, I found most people giving me small approving nods or wishing me luck. I'd finally decided that, for the sake of Amata and her father, to run for Overseer. If people wanted me to govern them, then how could I throw that back at them? These people were all I had and, with the prospect of a survivable wasteland outside, we'd all have to pull together for the Vault.

The only person who had gotten worse was Allen Mack. We'd both ignored each other mostly, and for good reason. Mack was short-tempered, and prone to act without thinking. The thought of him as Overseer frightened me. Not to mention, he was close with Paul Hannon, which didn't make the situation better.

On the day of the election, everyone of age was assembled in the cafeteria. I counted them. Apart from the Vault Security, there were only around 70-80 adults.

I took my seat at a table near the door, far away from Allen Mack and his supporters. There was chatter all around. Behind me, Amata and her father filed in and sat a good distance away, near the front of the room. We'd agreed that it would be best that we sit separately to avoid suspcion of bias. However, Amata did give me a small nod.

The two people who did sit at my table were my father and, of all people...

"Butch?" I said, astonished.

"Hey, teacher's pet," Butch greeted, sitting across from me. "Ready to become Overseer?"

"We don't know that yet, Butch, " James reminded him. "The votes haven't been announced yet."

"Yeah, but they have been cast," replied Butch. "And I know your son is way more popular than Allen Mack."

"Is anyone else even running?" I asked.

"Yeah, a few," Butch said with a shrug. "But they're little guys who think they can just gung-ho things. They've got no chance."

I frowned. Sure, I was excited to do something good for the Vault, but I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for those 'little guys' who thought that today would be their day. Over Butch's shoulder, Alphonse stood up.

"Can I have everyone's attention please!" he called out to silence the chatter, "Right, thank you. Now as a result of the recent infestation, I've been unable to return to my duties and will not be able to for some time. Furthermore, I've decided that being Overseer has made me disconnected from my own daughter, and the rest of you. It's for this reason that I've decided to hold this election, so that you may elect one of your own to govern this Vault. All votes have been cast and counted, and I would like the two candidates with the most votes each to stand.

"Ryan Moore and Allen Mack," he said. "Please stand."

I rose from my seat, as did Mack. Heads turned to look at the three of us.

"As Overseer of Vault 101," Alphonse continued. "It will be your duty to govern in the best interest of the Vault's inhabitants, and provide guidance when needed. You will be responsible for the lives of everyone within these walls. I warn you now, this is easier said than done. So it is for this reason that this is your last chance to back out."

I gave Mack a sideways glance. He stood still, as did I. He didn't so much as look at me. I turned my attention back to Alphonse.

"Very well, then," he said, drawing a note from his jumpsuit pocket. Clearing his throat, he read out the name of Vault 101's new Overseer.

"Ryan Moore."

The Vault dwellers rose in an indistinct sound of cheers and applause. I couldn't help but smile. These people had chosen me as their leader, entrusted me with their safety, and the safety of their children. I would not let them down.

"Congratulations, young man," Alphonse said, giving a small smile. This time, it was genuine. "I know you'll do this Vault well. Follow me, there are things we have to discuss."

I thanked everyone as I left, shook hands with everyone who offered theirs. I actually felt quite honored, in the midst of my dazed state. I followed Alphonse, Amata, and my father up the stairs to the balcony of the atrium.

"Over here to my- well, I guess it's your office now," Amata remarked.

The four of us filed in, and Alphonse gestured for me to sit in the chair behind the Overseer's desk. I sat, or rather, fell down into the seat.

"I knew you had it in you, son," my father told me, beaming. "I'm so proud of you."

"Hardly a surprising result," Alphonse told him. "He's probably one of the most well-liked people in the Vault."

He turned to me. "I'd say this calls for a celebration, but it will have to wait a day. Amata's told me of your conversation the other day. You know by now that the radiation levels outside the Vault have declined significantly, I take it?"

"Yes," I replied. "I've been considering what the best option is."

"And," Alphonse pushed. "What do you intend to do?"

"I see no other option but to open the Vault," I informed him, stunned at my own business-like tone. "This Vault had far more people in it 200 years ago than it did now. How long before we have to start pushing people into reproduction? And even then, there will be problems."

Alphonse sighed. "I suppose your right," he admitted. "As much as I dislike the prospect. My predecessor did make a handful of successful excursions into the Capital Wasteland- the Washington D.C area-in the 2240's, but they didn't go very far. All of our pre-war maps are useless, since most of the roads and towns existing before the war have all turned into rubble with time."

Amata stepped forward and said, "The scouting reports say that the closest settlement is a walled town called Megaton, south-east of here. The ruins of Springvale aren't far either."

"What about mutations?" I asked. "There are bound to be a few mutated species out there."

"The reports did mention giant ants of some kind," Amata recalled. "But it's been 30 years since those reports were made. Who knows what will be out there now?"

"We'll sort all that out in the coming days," I said. "Right now, I'm worried about the possibility of a radroach attack."

"I put Stanley to work fixing the vents, since that seems to be how they keep getting in," Amata told me. "He's almost got them fixed."

"Good," I said, nodding, "Anything else?"

"There is one other matter," Alphonse spoke up. "That of Security Chief Hannon."

I sighed. "Of course. How is he?"

"Enraged, which isn't surprising," said James, crossing his arms. "It's understandable. He didn't see what you see, after all. He saw you make a move on Steve Mack, which sadly resulted in the boy's death. That would tip most fathers over the edge."

"It's scary, the things he's saying," said Amata, shuddering. "Ryan, the things he said about you... and your mother... You wouldn't stand for it if you heard it."

I remember going rigid in my chair at the mention of the mother I'd never known, felt my blood boil at the thought of the hateful things Hannon must have been saying about her. But I put it aside. I couldn't lose my temper.

"I should talk to him," I said finally. "Apologize to him personally. I did kill his son- to an extent."

"I'd advise against that," James said. "He's bordering on insanity, judging from what I've seen."

"For once," Alphonse added hesitantly, "I agree with your father. Not to mention, he's capable of killing you with his fists."

"I won't be in the cell with him," I assured him. "And I owe it to him to at least explain why I did what I did. If what my father says is true, than I can't see him getting better."

"Well, it is your choice," Alphonse admitted. "Do what you think is best. Now, I expect they'll be throwing a party in the diner right about now. Care to join?"

"Sure, I'll be right down."

Alphonse went to leave with James and Amata, then stopped and turned back to me, taking something out of his pocket.

"Oh, I figured you should have these," he said, holding a yellowing piece of paper. "Vault-Tec's original instructions. Whether you follow them or not is your choice."

I took the 200-year-old paper from him and quickly read the paper over.

"Hmph," I muttered, unimpressed. "Good thing I'm not following these. We wouldn't last in isolation."


	2. Chapter 2

**So I'd like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited so far. I've been trying to get into a steady schedule now that I'm working on three stories at once, and I'm glad knowing that my work is being read. Now I know the first chapter of this story has been quite long compared to what I usually put out, and it's probably a one-time thing. I'm trying to go over a thousand words on each chapter I upload, and for this story you can probably expect no less than 3,000 words. I also want to inform you all ahead of time that I'm still a relatively new Fallout fan (having started playing Fallout 3 about six weeks ago), and that I am trying to make this fic as lore-friendly as possible, but it's very possible I could slip up on occasion. If I do, please do not hesitate to let me know so that I avoid making said mistake later on. Thanks for reading, and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

My dreams were haunted by Paul Hannon Jr. His jumpsuit was stained crimson from a bullet wound in his stomach, and dark red blood coated the cold steel floor beneath us. It crawled up the walls, engulfing me.

"You killed me," he would say, his eyes staring blankly at me. "You killed me."

"No!" I would deny desperately. "There was nothing I could do."

But he wouldn't stop. Those same three words would ring through my head, turning into a chant of, "You killed me. You killed me. You killed me."

Eventually, I would stop trying to defend myself and just fall to my knees, waiting for it to be over.

* * *

In between the dreams, I would plan out the first excursion into the Wasteland. I'd already decided that I would be going out there; I was sending these men out into the unknown. I owed it to them to face what I was making them face.

Gomez had agreed with enthusiasm, saying that he was itching to get out of the Vault. Next was Kendall, who also agreed to go. Three men would probably be enough, but I didn't want to gamble on our first trip outside. I looked over the list of officers; I'd need someone with a bit more muscle. Now don't get me wrong, Gomez and Kendall were big guys, but they didn't look it with all that security armor on. I needed someone who would send a clear message to anyone out there who would want to try something.

It was at that thought that I actually thought about what I was getting into. It had been hectic, becoming Overseer with barely a warning and immediately planning an excursion to the outside, so I hadn't really had time to just think about things. For all I knew, someone might gun us down the minute we even stepped out the door. Maybe we'd be robbed of all our possessions and left to die in the Wasteland. Or maybe someone would try and force their way into the Vault. The amount of unknown factors just piled up.

 _No,_ I thought. _Don't overthink it._

Sighing, I decided the fourth man could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Despite me insisting that they didn't have to, Amata and her father moved their belongings out of the apartment next to 'my' office and into a smaller apartment near the diner. James moved his stuff in, and I decided to stop putting off going to talk to Hannon.

"Good morning Overseer," said Gomez when I arrived at the small jail in the Vault. "Here to talk to Hannon?"

"That's right," I replied.

"Probably the best time to talk to him," Gomez noted. "This is as calm as he's been all week."

I looked into the jail cell. Hannon was sitting on his bed, his expression unreadable. Even without his heavy security vest, he looked thinner than usual. Too thin, in fact.

When he looked my way, his eyes narrowed like slits. "What do you want?"

"To talk," I said simply. "You've been refusing your meals, haven't you?"

"I'll eat when my hands have choked the life out of you," spat Hannon. I was taken aback.

"That's not going to happen, Paul," I said, despite myself.

"Then why are you here?!" he replied, shouting now.

"To explain myself," I said, taking a seat at the desk. "I can't get that day out of my mind, and I owe it to you to at least explain why I did what I did."

"Good," Hannon hissed, "I hope the day never leaves you."

"That's an understandable thing to feel," I told him. "Steve Mack was out of control. He raised his gun with the intention of killing another resident. I had to act."

"Only because said resident happened to be your girlfriend!" shouted Hannon, jumping to his feet and punching the window. "Tell me this, boy; would you have acted if it had been my son Mack was aiming at? Or if it was that dumb girl you're friends with that would be killed?"

I opened my mouth to respond, then hesitated. Would I have still stepped forward if Paul Hannon Jr was the one in danger? I probably would have, since he was never that bad to me when we were kids. But if I'd known that it would involve killing Amata, would I have been able to do what I did? I doubted it.

"What I did was basic instinct," I finally replied, keeping myself calm. "Sometimes we don't make choices about who lives and dies. We just do what we do."

"Keep telling yourself that," snarled Hannon, pressing his face against the glass. "As far as I'm concerned, you're a murderer who should never have been allowed into this Vault!"

"What do you mean?" I asked him, standing up, "I was born in this Vault!"

Hannon gave a sickening smile, flashing his yellowing teeth. "Daddy didn't tell you, did he? You're both from out there. You're tainted!"

"And you're lying," I shot back, "I'm trusting you enough to let you out of this cell. If you lay a hand on anyone in this Vault, you'll be in here a lot longer."

* * *

Dad was asleep when I returned. I didn't bother waking him; there would be plenty of time to talk about what Hannon had said when I got back tomorrow. I'd settled on Officer Taylor as the fourth man. He was more experienced, and a bit more level-headed. I made a list of all the equipment we'd be taking tomorrow, and went to sleep. We'd be up early tomorrow.

* * *

According to the clock, I'd woken up at six in the morning. Since you couldn't tell for sure underground, you'd just have accept that as the truth. I went down to the storage lockers to gather up the equipment. Taylor, Kendall and Gomez were already gearing up.

"Ready, boys?" I asked them.

"Aye, sir," said Gomez with a salute.

"Everyone's going out with a baton, a pistol, 50 rounds, two bottles of water a stimpak," I told them. The stimpaks were probably overkill, but I didn't want a man crippled fresh out of the Vault.

"Got it boss," Kendall replied.

"So what exactly is the plan?" asked Taylor. "I'd prefer to know what I'm doing, after all."

"The old scouting reports say that Megaton's the nearest settlement," I informed the group. "Officer Taylor, I believe your wife stayed there for quite a while."

"Yes, while sleeping not far a live atomic bomb."

"Don't worry, we're not going anywhere near that bomb if we can avoid it," I assured Taylor while pulling on a security vest. "We're just seeing how the locals will react to us, and take note of any dangers out there. We won't be gone long."

* * *

Amata, my father, and Alphonse were the only ones to see us off at the front door.

"Stimpaks?" the former Overseer said. "A little over the top, don't you think?"

"It's a precaution," I told him. "I don't want anyone going out there unprepared."

Alphonse shrugged in response. Anyone else might consider this rude, but anyone born in Vault 101 was used to far worse from Alphonse Almodovar.

"Just be safe out there," said Amata. "You don't know what's out there. I don't want any of you to get hurt out there."

"Don't worry, Amata," James said, "They'll all come back. Son, listen..."

He pulled me aside for a moment. "Listen, if you find a man called Colin Moriarty, do NOT do business with him. He's not a man that forgets a debt."

"Colin Mor-" I stammered. "Dad, what aren't you telling me?"

"It's nothing," James said quickly. "Just stay safe out there."

I was about to say more, but Gomez called me over.

"Come on! Let's go!"

 _This conversation isn't over,_ I mouthed to my father, before half-jogging back to the door.

"Ready?" Gomez asked, his finger on the Vault door control. Everybody nodded, and Gomez opened the door.

The alarm blared, and everyone covered their ears. The yellow light flashed above the Vault door, while a device descended from the roof and inserted itself into the back of the cog-shaped door. The device pulled the door backwards, and moved the door to the side.

Outside, I caught my first glimpse of natural light. At the end of the long, darkened cave, what must have been sunlight was streaming in through a cracked wooden door.

"This it guys," I said, taking a breath. "Be on your guard, and we'll be alright."

The four of us stepped out into the cave, onto a metal platform outside the door. It was here that I saw what might have been the most stomach-churning thing I'd ever seen. Alphonse apparently hadn't been the first Overseer to cut the Vault off from the outside world. Next to ancient signs that read 'We're dying, assholes!' were skeletons, or at least what was left of them. Darkened with age and missing limbs, their skulls sat empty and decayed. When had these people come here? When the Vault first closed, and the few people who escaped the atomic fire had come to plead for their lives? Judging by their conditions, it seemed the most likely.

"Let's go guys," I said, trying to sound unaffected, and probably failing. The walk to the end of the cave seemed to take a lifetime, and when we finally reached the door, it was a struggle to give Amata and the others one final wave, before the door of Vault 101 slid closed. I turned away from home, and pushed open the door to the unknown.

* * *

The full blast of the sunlight hit me as I led my team out, and I had to shut my eyes against the blinding white light. I staggered slightly, and felt something strange moving under my feet. It crunched with every step.

 _Of course,_ I thought, remembering my lessons. It was dirt. I'd only ever seen the samples brought in by radroaches. I slowly opened my eyes and took in the world. The sights, the smells, the light breeze against my skin. It was overwhelming. I allowed the officers to take it all in as well. I felt like a fish out of water, as the saying goes. Not that I'd even seen a real fish before.

Megaton was easily visible from the overlook by the Vault. I'd talked to Taylor's wife, who'd said that the town was surrounded by walls made from old plane parts. There was no way those walls in the distance could be anything else. I scanned the short distance between us and the town, but I'd have to get closer to see anything more than dirt and rocks.

At the base of the overlook were the remains of an old pre-war road. Where the concrete had disappeared, there was now a puddle of dirty green, heavily irradiated water. The Geiger counter on my Pip-boy began ticking. We steered well clear of the puddle.

I checked my Pip-boy and noticed that a new radio station had been picked up. In fact, _two_ radio stations had been picked up. Under the out-of-reach Vault 101 PA system were Enclave Radio and Galaxy New Radio. Curious, I tuned into Galaxy News.

" _And now for a public service announcement,"_ said the voice on the radio. " _Listen up children, because this stuff's important. Remember, children, that when the Raiders come, there ain't no shame in locking your doors, barricading your windows and cowering under the nearest bed. When these psychos come to play, they have one thing on their minds; making your life as fucking miserable as humanly possible. Raiders can't be bargained with, or reasoned with, and there ain't no use in surrendered, 'cause they'll just shoot you anyway."_

The officers gather around me to listen in.

 _"So run, hide, or fight if you've got the balls and the guns, but for God's sake don't go waving the white flag. They'll just strangle you with it. And now, some music!"_

'I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire' began playing on the radio. The news should have come as a shock, but I wasn't surprised. What was I expecting? A utopian society with no crime? That would just be lunacy. My hand went to my 10mm, and it gave me a sense of security.

We made our way to the front gates of Megaton, which opened upon our approach. A protectron stood by the gate.

"Welcome-to-Megaton," it said. "The-bomb-is-perfectly-safe. We-promise."

Megaton's walls surround a giant crater, at the center of which sat an unexploded atomic bomb sitting in a puddle of irradiated water. Crudely-built metal shacks covered the crater walls, some stacked on top of one another with support columns.

A figure approached us from what passed for a main road. He wore one of those old western duster coats and hats that people wore in those old movies, and he carried an assault rife.

"Well I'll be," he said, amazed. "You four are from that Vault, aren't you? I haven't seen one of those jumpsuits in a long time!"

"I'm Ryan," I said, extending a hand. "I'm Vault 101's Overseer."

"Lucas Simms," the man replied, shaking my hand. "Town sheriff, and mayor too when the need arises. What brings you folks to Megaton?"

"Just taking a look around," I told him. "We need to know what the world's like out here."

"Well, as long as you stay out of trouble, I won't complain," said Simms. "Be careful around the bomb, and don't start trouble. If you can do those things, then you're alright with me."

I thanked the sheriff, then a thought occurred to me.

"About the bomb," I said.

"What about it?"

"Shouldn't someone disarm that thing?" I asked.

"I don't trust any of the locals to tinker with it," Simms replied. "Why? You think you got the know-how to disarm that thing?"

"Possibly," I told him, "I can have one of the Vault technicians to take a look at it."

"Well alright," said Simms reluctantly. "Just don't go blowing everyone up. There'll be 100 caps in it if you disarm that thing."

I had no idea what he meant by 'caps', but I declined anyway. "I don't need a reward. I couldn't sleep at night knowing I left you all to die."

Simms looked at me, astonished.

"Well that's mighty decent of you," he said. "Just be careful."

He left us alone, and Kendall cleared his throat.

"You sure that's a good idea?" he asked me. "Not asking for a reward?"

"I want us to be on good terms with them," I explained. "People will have to get used to us, and I want them to be relaxed when we're around."

Kendall nodded in understanding.

"Alright," I said to the officers. "Feel free to wander around and mingle. Don't get into trouble, and don't touch the bomb. If you see or hear anything noteworthy, let me know."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison before splitting up. I decided to walk down the 'main' street, the busiest part of the town. The locals gave me a few distrusting glances, and I kept to myself. There was a preacher of some kind, his clothes ragged. He stood barefoot in the irradiated water, rambling something I didn't bother listening to. I looked around. Above one of the shacks was a massive sign reading 'Moriarty's Saloon'. I remembered what dad had told me, but decided to check it out anyway.

The saloon was furnished with a mismatch of different furniture. Around the metal bar were stools, while the chairs were a mix of shapes. A radio on top of the bar emitted static, while the bartender hit it in frustration.

"Stupid radio," he said in a raspy voice.

"I told you, Gob," replied a red-haired woman. "It's not the radio, it's Galaxy News. Their signal's been shit lately."

It took all my strength not to start at the bartender. Was he even human? Most of his skin seemed to have fallen off, and what little was left was pale and covered in sores and boils. Was it radiation, or something else that had done this to him?

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something. In the small sitting room away from the bar, a man gestured to me. He wore a dirty pre-war hat and suit, and glasses.

"Yes?" I said hesitantly, taking an empty seat across from him.

"My, my," he said coolly. "Just when I had all but given up hope. My dear boy, I am very happy to make your acquaintance. I am Mister Burke. And you, well, you are not a resident of this putrescent cesspool. That makes you a rather valuable individual."

"It does?" I asked, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.

"Don't you see?" said Burke. "You're a free agent! You have no ties here, no interest in this settlement's affairs! Megaton means nothing to you!"

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, Mister Burke," I replied, turning up my jumpsuit collar to show the yellow 101. "In case you haven't guess, I'm from a Vault."

"Ah," said Burke, nodding. "Vault 101. I had suspected it, given the jumpsuit. Well, what I have to say might be beneficial to your Vault. I represent certain... interests, who view this town as a blight on a burgeoning urban landscape.

"If this settlement were to.. go away. Why, who would really care? Certainly not you, or I..."

At this point, I was gaping.

"Wait," I finally said. "You're going to destroy the town?"

Burke smiled, and continued. "No, no. I'm merely a recruiter. YOU get to have the real fun. The undetonated atomic bomb for which this town is named is still very much alive. All it needs is a little motivation. I have in my possession a Fusion Pulse Charge. Once secured to the bomb, it will be detonated by you, from a secure location. Easy money, my friend."

I stood there, gaping. Surely this man wasn't serious! I backed away, and left in a hurry.

* * *

I told Gomez to keep an eye on Burke in case he tried to 'recruit' anyone else to rig the bomb before I could get it disarmed. I asked a local where I could trade, and he directed me to Craterside Supply, near the town gate. Craterside was run by Moira Brown, a red-haired women who seemed a little... odd. By odd, I mean extremely friendly for a Wastelander. Nonetheless, I was polite when talking to her.

"Oh, you're from that local Vault!" she said in excitement. "I haven't talked to one of you folks for such a long time! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question about life in the Vault?"

"Uh, sure," I replied, noticing something hanging in the corner of the room. A blue jumpsuit, a little worn from a combination of age and use, modified with leather straps and a metal shoulder guard that only partially hid the number 101 from view.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, pointing to the jumpsuit. Moira turned around.

"Oh, I had a girl come in about ten years ago, asking me to strengthen it, but I never saw her again. If you can answer my question, it's yours for free. So, what's it actually like living in a vault?"

"Well," I began, racking my brains for something noteworthy. "We've got a lot of pre-war technology, which gives us access to pure food and water free of radiation. The dispensers give us an almost limitless supply of useful things, such as water and medicine. The only real downside is that, since it's underground, you can't see any of the outside world."

"Fascinating!" said Moira, her eyes lighting up. "Thank you so much! Here, I want you to have this."

She brought over the modified jumpsuit, and I thanked her. After leaving Craterside Supply, I decided to meet up with the officers by the gate.

"So," I said to them. "How'd it go?"

"People here are friendly enough," reported Kendall. "But there's not a whole lot here worth trading for other than spare parts."

"They use bottlecaps as currency," replied Gomez. "We can get those easy enough as long as the dispensers keep working."

It was silly, but I didn't want to go with that option. Sure, we could have easily generated an unlimited amount of bottlecaps and become rich easily, but the idea seemed like cheating, and the last thing I wanted was for everyone in the wasteland to be jealous of Vault 101.

"We probably won't even have to do that," I finally told Gomez. "Purified water seems to be a luxury most people don't have access to out here, and we've got a limitless source of it. Anyway, we can discuss our next move when we return to the Vault."

"Did anyone else notice that man in the saloon?" asked Officer Taylor. "I don't like the look of him."

"Burke? Yeah," I replied. "He's trying to get someone to rig that bomb to blow."

"What?" came the voice of Sheriff Lucas Simms. "Who is?"

"Burke," I replied, turning to meet him. "He tried to recruit me to help him detonate the bomb."

The sheriff swore. "I never did like the look of him. Alright, follow me if you want an education on Wasteland justice."

Simms had his rifle loaded and ready long before we made it to Moriarty's saloon.

"Gomez, Kendall," I ordered. "You two block off the sitting room in case he tries anything. Taylor, you guard that door and don't hesitate to shoot Burke if he tries anything. Ready?"

"Got it, boss," said Gomez. We all walked inside, Taylor taking his place at the door, while Gomez and Kendall took their places, closing Burke in with me and Simms.

"Burke!" he barked. "Explain yourself!"

"Why, sheriff," said Burke calmly. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"The bomb! You want to blow it up! Have you lost your goddamned mind?"

Burke laughed. "Sheriff, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. Someone has clearly been spreading rumors. I'll be sure to address the situation personally."

Simms, having none of it, narrowed his eyes. "You're coming with me, Burke. At least until I know what the hell's going on around here."

Behind his glasses, Burke scowled and said. "And I'm afraid I won't be able to oblige your request, sheriff. Now, tell these Vault idiots to step aside."

"It's not open for discussion Burke," said Simms, shaking his head. "Get up, now!"

"Why do you knuckledraggers always insist on doing things the hard way?" Burke sighed. "Fine, lead the way."

Burke stood up, and Simms turned his back, giving Burke enough time to draw a modified N99 10mm and aim it at the back of the sheriff's head.

"GET DOWN!" I yelled, forcing Simms to the ground as a bullet whizzed overhead. Gomez and Kendall opened fire, and I saw Burke fall backwards into the wall, his suit stained with red where the bullets had punctured him.

"Good riddance!" a bar patron yelled.

Simms stood up and looked over at Burke's body.

"Must be getting slow in my old age," he murmured before turning to me. "We'll take it from here. Thank you for the help."

I nodded. "C'mon guys, lets head back."

* * *

Everyone was silent as we walked back to the Vault, the sun casting the wasteland in an orange glow. Despite that nasty business with Burke, it had been a fairly good day. The settlers, while wary, weren't hostile, and we knew how people traded. And there was that modifid jumpsuit as well. I'd have to ask Alphonse who it had belonged to.

When we reached the Vault door, I knew something wasn't right. The door was open, and unguarded.

"Officers," I commanded. "Be on your guard."

We stepped into the Vault, only to be met with silence. Then, from the atrium, voices drifted up.

 _"Hannon! Drop your weapon!"_

 _"Put the gun down!"_

BANG. BANG. BANG. The gunshots rang out from the atrium. I barely had time to process anything before the four of us were running down the steps and into the atrium.

When we reached the atrium, I almost slipped on something. Looking down, I saw blood, dark red, spreading across the floor, the source of which was Vault resident Tom Holden, who lay face-down in a pool of his own bloody, his arm outstretched. Next to him were the remains of Mary Holden, whose brains had been blown all over the atrium walls.

I tore my eyes away from the sickening sight, to that of Paul Hannon, who looked at me with his stolen gun raised and rage in his eyes.

"Paul!" I shouted in vain. "Stop!"

Gomez tackled me from behind as a bullet impacted where I'd been standing a moment before. Kendall and Taylor opened fire on Hannon, who collapsed with several bullet wounds in his torso, a look of rage and agony etched on his face.

"Thank you," I managed to say to Gomez. I stood up and collected the discarded pistol.

"R-Ryan?" said a tearful voice.

I whirled around. Standing at the foot of the staircase that led to the Admin section, was Amata. She was leaning against the wall, a look of absolute terror in her eyes, shaking uncontrollably.

I hadn't even realized that I'd been holding my breath, worrying if my worst fear was a reality. Thankfully, it wasn't.

"Oh thank God," I exclaimed, running to her and catching her before she fell. I lowered her gently to the floor, and asked if she was okay.

"I'm fine," she said. "J-Just a bit skaken, that's all. Hannon...he was being given his food when he just lashed out. He killed Officer Wolfe and just started shooting!

"No one knew what was happening, and your father tried to calm him down, but Hannon shot him."

My stomach churned, and it must have shown, because Amata said quickly, "Oh no, he's fine, but he'll be recovering for a few days."

"Okay," I said slowly, almost collapsing myself due to the situation. "Okay, where's your father?"

"Upstairs," said Amata, pulling herself onto her feet. "In your office."

I led her, carefully, up the stairs and to the Overseer's office. Alphonse was putting the lock back on one of the lockers when we walked in.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, seeing Amata barely walking. "Amata, sweetie, are you alright?"

"J-Just fine," Amata manged to say before I helped her onto the couch.

"Amata said Hannon went on a rampage," I said. "What happened?"

"I checked the security footage. Hannon jumped Wolfe when he was giving Hannon his dinner. When Hannon went on his rampage, your dad tried to reason with him. We've got ten people wounded, your father included, and two with serious injuries. Officer Wolfe, Hannon, and Tom and Mary Holden make up the death count, sir."

I sighed. _I leave the vault for one goddamned day and everyone goes to shit,_ I thought.

"Okay. If you two wanna get cleaned up, then that'll be all."

"As you wish."

Alphonse went to help Amata, but she insisted that she was fine before hurrying out. Alphonse gave an almost inaudible sigh.

"She just needs some space," I told him. "Today's been... traumatic."

"I suppose you're right," Alphonse replied, practically falling down in the chair opposite my desk in exhaustion. "I will admit though, things have been... better between us since I resigned."

"I'm glad to hear it," I said, sitting down at the desk. "It's nice to have some good news."

"So, how did the scouting trip go?"

"All in all, very well," I replied. "The locals in Megaton were wary, but that's to be expected I suppose. There's even a radio station set up in the D.C ruins. Bottlecaps are currency now, other than bartering. There's not a whole lot out there that we need, other than spare parts, but I think we can trade in other ways."

"Well, at least a few things went right today," muttered Alphonse, "What should we do about the bodies?"

I hadn't thought about that, and I paused for a moment.

"We should hold a service of some kind for Tom and Mary and Wolfe. As for Hannon, toss his corpse out, far away from here. I won't have murderers taking up space here."

"As you wish."

Alone in my office, I finally decided to go down and replace my equipment. In storage, I put away my gun, baton and vest while watching workers carry away Tom and Mary to the morgue, while two other carried Hannon up to the Vault door. I couldn't help but think, _Good riddance._

The thought scared me. I'm not the hateful type.


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks later, after a funeral had been held for Tom, Mary and Wolfe, Vault 101 went back to business as usual. I spent most nights in my office, planning for the next trip out. We'd spent three trips in Megaton and the ruins of Springvale, but I wanted to push deeper into the 'Capital Wasteland' and learn what was truly out there.

It was lucky that I'd decided to take N99's with us, because our second trip to Springvale saw us taking on a disused school full of 'Raiders'. The interior of that place was the most sickening place I'd ever seen. Mutilated corpses hanging from the ceiling, decaying skeletons of children, bloody mattresses. And the Raiders themselves seemed to represent evil itself. Their armor was made from what seemed to be scraps of metal and leather, their eyes were wild with rage, and I caught two of them getting high off of something called 'Jet'.

They put up a hell of a fight, but all of them fell at some point or another. We looted everything they had, and I almost vomited as I lifted a 32. revolver up, it's handle gripped by the severed hand of it's owner.

Nonetheless, we stripped the place clean of anything valuable, and made it back to the Vault within a day.

I sighed, remembering how long it had taken us to get back to the Vault. The scouting runs had gotten longer and longer. I'd have to work on getting camping gear; if we went out any farther, we'd be gone for a day or two.

The scouting plan was getting nowhere, so I decided to call it quits for the night. I'd been working almost nonstop for the past month, and I hadn't been able to even talk to anyone outside of Vault business. Maybe Amata would be in the diner at this hour. It would be good to just sit down and have a conversation outside of work.

We'd picked up old music holotapes on our last trip, so the Vault PA system was playing 'the Wanderer' as I made my way down to the diner. Thankfully, it wasn't too crowded, and I saw Amata and my father sitting at a booth near the back. They beckoned me over, and I practically fell into the seat.

"Good God," I said to Amata. "How your dad did this job for nine years, I will never know."

"My dad never had to plan a trip out of the Vault," Amata pointed out. "Hey Andy, can you get Ryan a Nuka Cola?"

"Here you are, sir!" said Andy cheerfully before setting a cold Nuka Cola bottle on the table and drifting away. The sweet liquid was refreshing, and I had to restrain myself to a few sips at a time.

"How have you been son?" my father asked. The attack from Hannon had left his right arm in a cast, so Jonas had taken over most of his duties.

"Exhausted," I replied, rubbing my eyes for the millionth time today. "At least we're getting somewhere with it."

"It's hard to get used to," Amata said, "You being away for so long. I keep getting worried that something's happened out there."

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was for my father to hear. Thankfully, I didn't have to decide. My dad excused himself, leaving us alone.

"I know, it's not easy," I told her, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But it's something that probably won't change anytime soon. We need to know what's out there, and we can't know unless we go out there."

"I know," said Amata, shifting in her seat to face me properly. "But every time you guys go out there, you're gone for longer. You've been here every day of my life, and I don't think I could go a day without you there. If you have to spend days at a time out there then fine, but I want to be by your side when you do."

I was taken completely aback, and didn't bother hiding it. In the three weeks since the Vault opened, Amata had never once expressed any desire to leave the Vault. Where had the sudden change of heart come from?

"Y-You want to go out there?" I asked her, astonished. "Into the wastes? Amata, it's dangerous out there."

"I don't care," she replied. "I want to at least know what's going on out there. It's driving me crazy, being cooped up in here. It's a big world out there, and I don't want to live and die in the same corner I was born in. I want to see the world."

"You're sure about this?" I asked, frowning. "You won't a lot of what you see. Is this really what you want?"

It is."

"Alright," I finally said reluctantly. "But I want you to be prepared. We start firearm training tomorrow."

* * *

For some reason, the Vault felt suffocating, so I went topside for some air. I sat down on the scenic overlook outside the Vault, my eyes passing over the illuminated Megaton walls and the darkened ruins of Springvale, the night air cooling me down. On our last trip into Megaton, Simms had filled me in on some of the nearby settlements. Near the D.C ruins was Rivet City, an old disused aircraft carrier and the largest city in the Capital Wasteland.

"Don't get your hopes up," Simms had said. "D.C's a complete warzone. Between the Brotherhood of Steel and the super mutants, you'll be lucky to get out alive."

We'd have to look for more firepower if we ever wanted to venture into the city. Some of the Raiders we'd killed had been armed with submachine guns and assault rifles, but ammo was in short supply.

I heard a low whining noise to my right, and looked around, then nearly jumped in alarm. At the top of the slope leading away from the Vault, staring at me, were two small eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. I tensed up, wondering if the creature would attack, then relaxed. It wouldn't attack; it was just curious.

"C'mon," I said to it. "Don't be afraid."

The creature walked over, and I saw a furry body walking on two legs. I felt my jaw drop. Was it a dog? I'd never seen one before, aside from pictures in the Vault library books. But I didn't even recognize this one's breed.

"It's okay boy," I said, reaching out. "You got an owner?"

The dog gave another whine, and moved closer. His fur was brown and gray.

"You seem like an okay boy," I told the dog, who rested his head on my leg, "I guess you can stay with us."

The dog gave a happy bark. I looked at the name tag hanging from his collar. It had one word; Dogmeat.

* * *

For somebody who had never fired a gun before, Amata wasn't actually a bad shot. I'd brought her down to the room by the reactor where'd I'd trained with a BB gun for nine years. I didn't want to use valuable ammunition on training, so I let her use my BB gun for practice. Her first few shots bounced harmlessly off the wall, but they gradually worked their way closer and closer to the center of the target. After three days of practice, I decided she'd do fine outside.

We stocked several extra bottles of purified water for trading in Megaton, and a thought occured to me. I'd made an offer to Sheriff Simms to disarm that bomb, but I didn't trust myself to do the job alone. This called for a trip to the maintenance department.

"Hey Stanley, you interested in a trip topside?"

Stanley looked up from replacing a vent cover and looked up, wiping his sweaty brow.

"What do you want me for?" he asked, standing up.

"The town we've been visiting, Megaton, it's got a live atomic bomb, and I don't trust myself to disarm it alone. Think you could help out?"

Stanley paused for a second, then said, "Well, it should only take one man, but I can lend a hand if you need."

"Alright. We leave in two days."

"Gotcha, boss."

* * *

I was on my way down to the cafeteria at lunch to ask Kendall if he was interested in a few days outside, when I heard shouting coming from the room. I recognized the voices of Officer Kendall, his daughter Christine, and his wife Mary.

"-leaving all the time!" Mary was saying. "I don't care what the Overseer says, John! You can't just neglect your family like this!"

"I've got a duty to the Vault!" John Kendall replied. "I can't ask the Overseer to give me a free pass because I'm married. Besides, I'm rarely even gone for long."

"No, dad!" Christine piped up. "You're away with Ryan and the officers longer and longer. You've got mom and Monica and me here!"

"John, listen to them!" said the voice of Allen Mack. "Why are you letting that little punk Ryan force you to risk your life?"

"He's not forcing me!" John replied. "He's never ordered me to go out there."

I heard Allen scoff. "John, you should know better. That brat of an Overseer is going to realize sooner or later that he can do whatever he wants with us. We have to stop him before he goes mad with power."

A few voices murmured in agreement, but they were drowned out by the shouts of "You're embarrassing yourself!" and "Shut up already!". John Kendall actually burst out laughing.

"You think Alphonse was any different? He ran this Vault with an iron fist for years, and only because there was no one else. Ryan's capable, and he's reasonable. He's one of the best Overseers we've had in a long time!"

"That won't last!" Allen Mack insisted. "He's always been selfish and insubordinate, just like his father. And probably his mother too. Thank God she didn't live to bother us."

"Mack!" I shouted, unable to contain myself. "That's the fucking limit!"

He'd gone too far now. It was time to put an end to his bullshit. Without a second thought, I stormed into the cafeteria, walked straight up to Allen Mack, and threw a punch him in the face.

"You can talk shit about me all you want," I fumed as he staggered back in shock. "I'll even tolerate you spewing bullshit about my dad. But you do not ever talk about my mother like that, or I'll make your life a living hell. If you ever mention my mother again, getting smacked will be the least of your worries."

Mack was either too frightened or too stunned to retort. I stood there, heaving for a moment, then stormed out of the room.

* * *

I somehow wound up in the library, alone. I sat down at a terminal and tried to control my breathing. How fucking dare he! Sure, this was Allen Mack we're talking about, but how spiteful can one get to go that far? My thoughts were interrupted by Christine Kendall, Allen's niece-in-law.

"Sorry about that," I said to her, still shaking, "I've always been sensitive about my mother."

"I understand," said Christine. "I know how Allen can get. I don't even bother calling him uncle; he's not really family."

She sat down at the terminal next to me.

"Being Overseer- it's getting to you, isn't it?" she said, more as a statement than a question. I sighed and nodded.

"I'm just terrified," I said, my head in my hands. "that I'll end up like Amata's father. Is this just part of being Overseer?"

"No, I don't think so," Christine replied. "Amata's mother died very early on, and Alphonse had the responsibility of raising a child and running the Vault on his own. You've got people to look to for help, at least. You'll be fine."

* * *

The shouting match with Allen Mack had reminded me of the Vault's biggest problem; population. We'd gotten to the point where almost everyone was under one family tree, which meant that the Vault would descend into inbreeding within a generation or so. Without outside imput, this place would collapse after a decade or so. I'd had an idea, ever since we first ventured outside the Vault, to let people come and go freely. Not with regulation, but perhaps allowing people to come and go would lead to a solution.

Kendall had to bail out on the next scouting run, so the final team was me, Amata, Gomez, Taylor, and Stanley and Officer Richards. Stanley and Richards would return to the Vault after the bomb was disarmed, while the four of us would continue. I'd asked around Megaton on our last trip, and learnt of a few settlements in the Capital Wasteland. Rivet City was off the agenda, due to it's proximity to war-ravaged D.C ruins. Greyditch was on the city outskirts, and supposedly spared the horrors of the super mutants. Big Town a short walk north of Megaton, and Arefu was a little further north-west.

My father and Alphonse came to see us off, Alphonse walking with the aid of a cane we'd found for him. He'd been... less than joyful when he'd learned that Amata would be going out with us, but had grudgingly accepted it. When he arrived at the Vault door, he whispered to me, "If my daughter gets hurt out there, I'll kick your ass."

The sirens blared as the door slid open, and we stepped out into the tunnel leading outside. Amata cringed at the decayed skeletons by the door, but said nothing.

I allowed her to take it all in when we stepped outside the cave. It was a big experience for her, to see sunlight for the first time in her life. I didn't know what she expected of the outside. She'd been fed those lies about an uninhabitable irradiated wasteland all her life, so maybe a part of her expected hell itself.

"It's incredible," was all she could say, standing on the cliff overlooking the Wasteland. Her eyes settled on Megaton.

"That's out first stop," I told her. "Stanley will disarm the bomb in town, and we'll trade a few bottles of water for some caps. After that... we'll look at our options."

Stanley, Amata and Richards finally tore their eyes away from the view, and we made our way over to Megaton. As we approached the bomb in the center of town, I had to restrain myself from cursing. The crazy preacher was standing in the irradiated water, worshiping that damn bomb again. I deliberately avoided him on every trip into town, but he'd most likely confront us if we started tampering with the bomb. Sure enough, I was right.

"Pardon me," he said. "But what business do you have with Atom?"

Stanley looked up from removing a panel on the bomb, and gave me an uncertain look.

"We're just... making sure the bomb is safe," I said carefully. Stanley gave a quick nod. The answer did not satisfy the preacher.

"It's regrettable that you cannot speak to me truthfully, so I must ask you to step back," he told us, narrowing his eyes. Out of the corner of my eyes, two more cult members appeared outside of their church, eyeing us. Gomez, Taylor and Richards eyed them back.

"It's regrettable that I can't oblige the request," I finally told the preacher. "We're here at the Sheriff's request."

"Then perhaps you should go back to the Sheriff and inform him that the Church of the Children of Atom will not allow people to desecrate our place of worship," the preacher shot back, looking more than a little cross now.

"This bomb is not your place of worship," said a familiar voice that couldn't come at a better time. "This bomb is in a public space, and these people are indeed here with my knowledge and permission. And I can't allow you to obstruct them."

For a moment, the preacher looked like he'd been slapped. Then, he hid it with a small smile and said, "Sheriff, these people have lived their lives underground, and are somewhat ignorant of our ways. If you were to allow me to conscript these poor souls-"

"Not a chance!" I said. "Put your hands on any of us, and we'll have a problem."

"That's not happening, Cromwell," Simms warned. "If you continue to harrass people, then I'll have to detain you."

A scowl appeared on Cromwell's face, and before stepping aside, he hissed at me, "You have made a massive error in judgement, _Overseer,_ and you and everyone in you Vault will feel Atom's wrath because of your actions!"

I only glared in response. This man was clearly a fanatic, and pouring fuel on the fire would be a bad idea.

"Alright Stanley," I said, turning around. "What have we got?"

Stanley looked up and wiped his brow on his dirty jumpsuit. "It's C-23 Megaton bomb. Won't detonate without a fusion pulse charge, but the core is still alive and leaking radiation. When the inner plates deteriorate with age, probably in a year or so, it's gonna irradiate this whole town."

"Can we disable it?" I asked.

"Easily," Stanley nodded. "If we deactivate the core, it'll stop releasing radiation, and the bomb will be dead for good. Could I get a pair of hands down here?"

I knelt down, thankfully that my boots were radiation-resistant, and did as Stanley instructed. Most of the bomb's interior was taken up by a massive round shape, which must have held the core.

"Ah, I see," said Stanley. "The core's in the physics package, so getting it out will be hard, but we can remove the X-unit and the plate, so that it can't detonate. Here, you hold the unit while I unscrew it."

I did as he requested, putting my hands under the metal square while Stanley unscrewed the unit. When he was done, he placed the unit in the leather pouch I'd given him.

"We'll have to dismantle this thing fully sometime," he said. "These parts could be useful."

"Haven't we pissed off the church enough?" I replied sarcastically.

Stanley and I both took some Rad-X before working on the core. As he opened the aged physics package, the gieger counter on my Pip-Boy began to tick, but only for a second.

"Alright, the core's disabled," Stanley announced, wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. "The bomb is officially dead."

"Well I'll be damned."

I turned around. Lucas Simms had returned, a look of disbelief on his face.

"You did it, didn't you? You disarmed that thing!" he said, looking astonished. "And all without asking for a reward too. Here, this is the least I could do."

He drew a piece of paper from his pocket, and handed it to me.

"See that empty house, up there on the hill?" said Simms, pointing. "It's yours now. Do whatever you like with it."

Inside the folded paper, was a single key. I stored it in my pouch with a smile. I looked up at Amata, who gave me an approving smile.

I didn't plan on settling down in Megaton, but it would be handy to have a place on hand to stay at if need be. Maybe we could even turn it into a store of some kind, provided we could find someone to run it.

That thought left my mind immediately. Greeting us as we stepped inside the shack was, hovering off the ground, a round ball with three arms and three eyes, was a Mr Handy robot.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Sirs and Madam. I am Wadsworth, this dwelling's personal robotic butler. May I ask who holds the deed to his house?"

I held up the deed, but said, "We haven't decided on an owner yet, and we're considering turning this place into a store of some kind. How would you feel about it?"

"A store, sir?" said Wadsworth. "I think that would be quite an interesting idea sir! Moira from Craterside Supply might not be so welcoming to competition, but perhaps you can find some other valuables to trade with!"

"We're from a nearby Vault," I explained. "Vault 101. We're hoping to set up trade on the surface."

"Ah, I heard that a Vault had opened recently. Well, I wish you luck sir. Will any of you be requiring anything?"

I looked at my companions who, looked at each other and shook their heads.

"No, we're fine thank you," I said politely. After a moment of thought, I added, "If anyone from Vault 101 comes over, tell them that they're welcome to stay here and that the Overseer owns this place. Other than that, I'd prefer if nobody else comes over unless they have a good reason. Can you do that for me?"

"Absolutely sir!" said Wadsworth cheerfully. "Proud to serve!"

* * *

We traded two bottles of water for 80 caps before leaving town at noon, while Stanley and Richards went back to the Vault. We stopped in Springvale for a quick lunch, watching an eyebot drift by, playing Enclave Radio out of it's speaker. I'd tuned into Enclave Radio a few times, but all it seemed to play were old patriotic songs and the occasional monologue by someone who called himself 'John Henry Eden'. From the speeches, we determined that this 'Enclave' was some kind of pre-war government remnant, and Eden was it's president. Over the radio, he vowed that the Enclave would restore America to it's former glory. Sounded like rubbish.

We camped out at an old Red Rocket gas stop, since all of the houses were reduced to unrecognizable frames. In the afternoon, I tuned in to Galaxy News Radio, right as Three Dog began a report.

 _Got some great news out of the town of Megaton. Turns out the live atomic bomb in the town's center has finally been deep-sixed for good. The town's sheriff, one Lucas Simms, commissioned a few guys from Vault 101 to disarm the nasty nuke. Nice going 101. Glad to see you folks finally fighting the Good Fight. Next time you're in the neighborhood, pop into the studio."_

"News travels fast, huh?" said Gomez.

I frowned. How had word gotten to the D.C ruins already?

I went over to join Amata, who was exploring an old house nearby.

"Find anything?" I asked.

"No, not really," she said, half distracted, while pulling a blue pre-war dress out of a suitcase. "Pretty good condition, for 200 years old."

The house had collapsed into ruin, leaving only a few walls. But the mailbox, knocked over, was still outside. I saw a yellowing piece of folded paper inside it. Pulling it out and unfolding it, I read it.

 _Dear Mr and Mrs Almodovar, congratulations on your recent inclusion in the Vault 101 community. In your application materials you will find a full review of rules and procedures related to preparing for shelter in a Vault-Tec facility, but we will outline a few key points here:_

 _Vault-Tec provides all clothing, bedding and accommodations for residents. Personal belongings must be reviewed and approved of by an authorized Vault-Tec hermetics technician before such belongings can be delivered to your reserved quarters within the Vault. In the event of an emergency entrance to the Vault, no personal belonging will be permitted beyond the main door of the facility._

 _All Vault residents must attend an orientation seminar. If you did not attend such a seminar as part of the application process, you must make an appointment with your Vault-Tec representative._

 _In the event of a Vault activation, whether actual or drill, Vault-Tec will sound a siren audible in the immediate vicinity of the Vault facility entrance, and residents will be contacted via holotape message at the phone number provided in their resident profile records. Please report promptly to Vault 101 to await admittance and processing upon such a notification._

 _Vault-Tec looks forward to having you and your family as valued residents! Be sure to present this letter to your Vault-Tec representative to receive your special; commemorative Vault Boy bobblehead toy! Sincerely;_

 _Vault-Tec_

 _Dept of Public Relations_

 _Washington, D.C_

I stared at the letter, gaping. Surely this wasn't what I thought it was?

"Amata?" I said. "You should take a look at this."

Amata walked over, still carrying the blue dress, and read the letter over my shoulder. She let out a gasp, and her eyes went wide.

"How-" she began to say. She looked down at the dress, holding it close to herself, and said, "My mother died when I was little... I've never known any family members outside of my father. Ryan, do-do you mind if I keep this?"

"Not at all," I said, handing her the letter, which she carefully folded and placed in her pack along with the blue dress.

"You okay?" I asked her. She nodded, saying, "You mind if I look around a bit longer?"

* * *

We decided to settle down for the night at the gas stop. I took the first watch, with Gomez to take over in two hours. We all rolled out the sleeping bags that we'd brought with us, along with a portable heater. I sat by the road, away from the heater, letting the cool night air wash over me.

 _This isn't so bad,_ I thought, _Cool air, sleeping bags, no alarms bother me in the morning. Wasteland life ain't too bad._


	4. Chapter 4

**I just want to let you guys know that this chapter will be introducing multiple POV's in first-person form. So to make things less confusing, I've decided that from now on a horizontal line will be an indicator for a change of POV (I wanted to use two lines, but the Doc Managers is glitching out and not saving double lines).**

* * *

Taylor took the last watch, and woke us up as the sun cast an orange glow over the Wasteland. At breakfast, we discussed where to go next.

"Going to Greyditch means backtracking," I said in between bites of steak. "Not to mention, getting closer to the city means we're at risk of super mutants AND raiders."

"What about this "Brotherhood of Steel'?" asked Gomez, drinking from a bottle of purified water. "Aren't they fighting the super mutants?"

"Yes, but their reach doesn't extend far," I replied. "Apparently they're set up in an old government building called the Pentagon, but they've only got a handful of troops in the accessible parts of D.C. If we ever want to go down there, we'll have to use the metro system, which is apparently infested by ghouls."

"Ghouls?" said Amata, looking worried. "What are ghouls?"

"Ghouls are people who have been exposed to large amounts of radiation and survived. Most of them go feral, but a handful of them apparently retain their sanity."

"So Greyditch is out," Taylor broke in. "Where else?"

"Well, we might want to explore west," Amata suggested. "We don't know a lot of what's out in that direction, so maybe we should see if there are any settlements out there."

"I doubt it," I told her. "Simms didn't mention any settlements in that direction other than Arefu, but maybe he just doesn't pay much attention to that region."

"I think Amata's right," said Gomez. "We should at least check out the western Capital Wasteland, even if to be certain that there's nothing out there."

I weighed up our options and, due to the lack of a better idea, said, "Alright, get ready to move."

The sun rose high into the sky before long, and with it came the hear. Sweating, we all rolled up the sleeves of our jumpsuits. The security vests only served to weigh us down as we walked.

After an hour of walking and a quick water break, our jumpsuits were covered in dust, and our legs were sore. Looking around, all I could see in any direction was desert, a few ruined houses, and the crumbled remnants of the highway. We quickly looked through the old houses, but found very little of value.

"Boss," Gomez whispered to me. "Raiders, up on that hill."

I looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, there were three Raiders, two male and one female, making their way along the nearby cliff. They had seen us yet, but one glance over a shoulder would change that.

"Everyone get behind a wall!" I ordered. We all scrambled behind the most intact pieces of wall we could find, while the footsteps of the Raiders came closer and closer. The two male ones were jeering about some farmer's daughter they'd raped, while the female Raider was oddly silent. They stopped inches from where we were hiding, and I nodded at Officer Gomez, who was crouched behind the wall opposite me. I braced myself, accidentally kicking away a few rocks.

"What was that?" called out one of the male Raiders. I peaked out through a tiny eye-sized hole in my wall. The Raider had an assault rifle out, and pointing it frantically in all directions.

"Stop being paranoid," the other Raider said dismissively, his 44. magnum still holstered, "There's nobody out there."

"I'm tell you man, someone's here!" the first Raider insisted. "Come out here motherfucker!"

The Raider had stepped right next to where I was hiding. One glance to the left, and he'd see me. Gomez and I locked eyes briefly, knowing what to do. I looked through the peephole again and saw the second and third Raiders standing close behind.

Gomez sprang out from his hiding place and tackled the Raider, who went down swearing. The assault rifle went flying. I jumped out from the wall and shoulder-tackled the next Raider, while the third simply staggered backwards.

"Drop your weapon!" I shouted, pinning the Raider down and gripping his forearms tight. He tried to take a swipe at me with his combat knife, but I tightened my grip on his right forearm. That is, until he headbutted me and pushed me away from him. I stumbled onto my back, and the Raider picked himself up and launched himself at me, ready to drive the knife into my skull. I heard Gomez shout something, but there was no way he'd make it in time.

Right as the Raider began to bring his knife down, he let out a scream and fell limp, landing on top of me. The knife landed harmlessly on my vest. I let out a sigh of relief and tried to control my breathing. I pushed the Raider off of me, and saw the tip of a machete poking out from his chest. He landed awkwardly on his back, propped up by the machete blade while his limbs hung uselessly.

I heard more breathing, and turned toward the source. My savior had been, of all people, the female Raider, who stared at the corpse with wide eyes.

"Listen," I said, still panting. "We don't want any trouble. Just... just walk away and nobody needs to get hurt."

I looked at her for a moment and, decided that she was no threat, added, "You okay?"

"F-Fine," she replied. "Just glad to be rid of those guys. Assholes. Should have run from them ages ago."

She walked over to the dead Raider and turned the body over, pulling out the bloody machete.

"You got a name?" I asked.

"Marie," she replied. "Encountered those Raider assholes about a year ago. I was alone and starving, so I tagged along. Most of 'em got killed by the Brotherhood or mutants, but these two couldn't die quickly enough."

She knelt down and wiped the machete on the ground. "Listen, there are a bunch of Raiders holed up in Springvale School near your Vault. They've apparently been tunneling into that place."

"I noticed," I replied, shuddering slightly. "We took care of them a while ago."

My thoughts went back to when we'd cleared Springvale Elementary. The Raiders in there had brought blowtorches and explosives down into the tunnel with them, which would have been more than enough to blow through a bulkhead. It just made me more glad that we'd opened the Vault.

"Well, that's good to hear," Marie said. "We've got a camp just over that hill. There's more firepower and supplies over there that I can carry, not to mention a Brahmin or two nearby. We can split the goods."

"Sounds fair to me," I replied, grateful that something good had come from the day.

We looted from the two dead Raiders. Gomez took the assault rifle, and I took the combat knife and 44. magnum from my would-be killer. Marie looted a few armor pieces from the dead men. When she saw my puzzled look, she said, "You think I wear this whore's outfit by choice?"

I will admit, the armor she wore was more than a bit outlandish. Aside from a shoulder piece and metal covering her breasts, her entire upper body was exposed. It reminded me how sick these people were.

The small camp Marie had mentioned consisted of a circle of stones where a fire had been, three filthy mattresses, a few traveling packs, and a pack Brahmin a short distance away. Brahmin were a mutated creature descended from some pre-war animal called a cow. They looked a lot like the illustrations in the Vault textbooks, aside from the two heads and yellow-ish skin. Several containers and pouches had been sown into a leather covering that the animal carried. I'd seen it before; merchants always traveled this way.

"So," I said to Marie, who was gather the stuff that belonged to her. "Who gets the Brahmin?"

Marie gave a small laugh. "I like to travel light. Take it, you'll want what that thing is carrying."

The brahmin was carrying several assault rifles, ten N99's, a few hand grenades, twelve stimpacks, and a hunting rifle, all with ammo.

"Take what you want guys," I said, feeling triumphant at our good fortune. "We've got ourselves a good haul right here."

The travelling packs contained more ammo and supplies, and a very lethal-looking knife. I wondered if our luck would ever run out.

"What will you do now?" I asked Marie, who paused to consider the question.

"I'll probably settle down in Rivet City. I hear they got a good thing going over there. Look me up there if you want a drink and a... _good time."_

I could only shuffle uncomfortably in response. Marie said her goodbyes to the others. The minute she was out of earshot, both Amata and Gomez burst out laughing. Even the no-nonsense Officer Taylor humored me with a small grin. I rolled my eyes.

"You two need to grow up," I told them.

"Sorry, but the look on your face!" Amata managed to say, the laughter bringing her to her knees.

"Priceless!" added Gomez breathlessly. "Too bad there wasn't a camera for that!"

We began to make our way back east, stopping at a wooden door built into the base of a cliff. A short distance away was a sign with a radiation logo. Out of sheer curiosity, we decided to explore.

Immediately, I felt a sense of deja-vu. We were at the end of a long cave, at the end of which was a familiar cog-shaped door...

"Is that...?" Amata whispered, clearly thrown off-guard by the environment.

I walked up to the door, somewhat dazed. The reaction in my head was mixed. The door and wall around it was eerily like home, but the control panel was on the right side of the door instead of the left, which confused me. I looked at the door, at the center of which was a faded _106._

I reached a hand out to grasp the control pad, then hesitated. We didn't know what was in there. Maybe it would be empty, or maybe it would be flooded with toxic gas. Curiosity overruled common sense, and I pressed the button to open the door. The familiar sirens blared, and the cog-shaped door slid open.

"Good God," Amata whispered.

"What the hell..." muttered Gomez.

"T-Taylor," I stammered. "Stay outside and guard the Brahmin. If we don't come back, then go back to Vault 101 and come back with backup, got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Taylor replied.

Amata stepped onto the metal platform with me, and said, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I don't know," I whispered. "If you don't want to go in, I understand."

"No," said Amata firmly, taking my hand. "I'm not letting you go in by yourself."

The control room hidden by the Vault door was almost an exact replica of Vault 101. But this Vault had suffered from what must have been centuries of disuse and neglect. The walls, cool blue steel in Vault 101, were rusted with age. Vault 101 was always tidy, whereas Vault 106's hallways had notes and junk scattered all around. The only thing remotely similar was the silence, but I suspected that to be from lack of inhabitants.

"It's like Vault 101 went to hell," I muttered. There was a strange odor as well that I couldn't quite place. We picked through the lockers before making our way through Vault 106, on our guard the entire time. The layout was different to that of home, and most doors had rusted away to the point of being stuck permanently. I made a mental note to come back here with drilling equipment; there could be all sorts of useful stuff down here.

As we made our way further into the Vault, the hallway ahead of me turned a strange blue. The rust disappeared, leaving a spotless, deserted Vault. I saw a semi-transparent figure- Amata -running towards me.

I frowned. That couldn't be right. Amata was right here, next to me.

"Guys," I said. "Is anyone else seeing things?"

"Yeah..." Amata replied, her eyes glazed over, "I think it's... to do with that odor..."

"Sir, I think it's the vents," said Gomez. "Whatever it's pumping... I think that's what's making us see things."

"Okay..." I said, finding it hard to focus. "You guys... you guys try to find a way to... turn off the vents."

"Alright," said Gomez, also losing focus. "Be careful, Ryan."

They both left, and I recalled wandering into some kind of computer room filled with a few old terminals and tables. My legs gave out from under me, and I collapsed onto my knees.

 _Gotta stay awake,_ a voice inside of me said.

 _No, don't fight it. Just relax,_ said another voice.

I groggily pulled myself onto my feet and tried to call out to the others, but my voice had left me. I collapsed onto the floor, drifting into unconsciousness.

Had it all been a dream? Or had I lost my memory? I couldn't tell, because I found myself on the floor of Vault 101, a hand over the bullet wound in my stomach. Ahead of me, all the people I'd known in my entire life were exiting through the open door, ignoring me completely. What had I done?

The final dweller to leave was Amata. Before she left the Vault entrance, she turned to me, a look of pure contempt on her face.

"You said you'd protect us!" she shouted at me. "You said we'd be okay! You lied to us, lied to me!"

"No..." I said in a raspy voice. "I tried..."

"You didn't try!" Amata spat at me. "You gave up! You failed us! You can die down here for all I care. I don't want to ever see you again! Do you understand that? Come anywhere near any of us again, and I'll kill you!"

She spat at the ground in front me, while I sat there, too weak to reply. She stormed out of the Vault, never looking back.

"Amata..." I whispered. "Please! Come back!"

The door closed in front of me, leaving me alone while the entire Vault collapsed around me. Blood poured from the wound in my stomach. I looked around and saw the corpses of the people I knew; my father, Gomez, Christine Kendall, Butch, Paul Hannon Jr and... Amata. All them, eyes wide open with terror etched on their faces, jumpsuits tattered and torn. I looked over at Amata, whose jumpsuit was stained with the blood from a stab wound...

I woke up from the nightmare in Vault 106's computer room, not knowing what was real or not. What if that had really happened and I'd somehow wandered in here out of grief? What if my whole life had been a illusion of my mind and I was actually just a crazy wastelander? With no over conceivable option and my grief taking over, I slumped against the wall and broke into uncontrollable sobs.

I heard someone enter the room, heard frantic voices. Felt hands trying to pull me onto my feet, while I continued my mental breakdown.

"Ryan?" said a worried voice. "Ryan, it's okay."

"I failed," was all I could say.

"Jesus, the drugs have gotten to him. We gotta get him out of here."

"I failed, I failed," I repeated, my voice cracking.

"No, Ryan!" the voice said again desperately. "You didn't fail! Ryan, look at me!"

I forced myself to open my eyes, and found myself staring into Amata's worried face.

"Ryan, listen to me! Whatever you saw, whatever you think happened; it's not real. Everything's okay."

I finally pulled myself together somewhat, and stood up with the help of Amata and Gomez, still breathing hard.

"Let's get out of here," I said. Nobody had any complaint there.

The vents inside Vault 106 had been pumping some kind of drugs into the air, which had either killed or driven out any Vault dwellers. I still tried to convince myself that I'd imagined it all. That our Vault was indeed safe. I asked Amata if she'd passed out.

"Yeah. I had this awful dream. Something had.. happened to the Vault, and everyone was leaving. But you were lying by the door bleeding, and nobody was even acknowledging you. Then, when I passed you..."

She stopped for a moment to take a breath, and continued, "I just started saying these awful things to you. I didn't understand where it was coming from, but it was like I had no control over myself. I just... left you there, while the Vault collapsed behind you..."

She looked at me, and I realized that my brow was furrowed.

"That's... the dream I had."

"Ryan... you know I didn't mean whatever I said in that 'dream' right?" she asked me. "It was just a trick, some weird hallucination."

"I hope so," I replied. I wasn't superstitious, but I'd seen things today that made me doubt myself. Had we somehow seen the future. "The important thing is that we don't let that dream become real. We can't let anything happen to the Vault. We have to protect our people... at any cost."

We camped out at sundown in an old barn, which was sturdy-looking enough for me to trust it not to fall on us. Taylor and Gomez led the pack Brahmin over to a post inside the barn and secured it by a rope. As we sat around the fire, smoke drifting through a hole in the roof, I thought about what we'd need to do. I pulled out a pencil and notepad from my pack, and began to write down the things that I'd need to do when we got back.

 _1\. Appoint new Security Chief._

This had been nagging at my subconscious for weeks. A Security Chief was a primary adviser to the Overseer, and the role had been vacant since Alphonse had stepped down . I'd been considering Gomez or Kendall for the position, since they were both level-headed guys. This last thought brought me onto the next task:

 _2\. Review Vault Security staff._

A lot of the Security Officers, including the late Steve Mack, were short-tempered, and that was generous in a few cases. Officers Richards and Park weren't too bad; perhaps some anger-management counseling would do then good. I made a small note to mention the idea to my father. But when it came to Officers O'Brian and Wilkins, the situation was more complex. Saying that they were hard-asses would be the understatement of the century; I'd watched them relentlessly bash people up with those batons several times in the past. It was a good bet that they would have to go.

 _3\. Form permanent council and protocols._

This had been an idea of mine for quite a while, since the temporary council that had formed in the wake of the firefight had disbanded. It had less to do with the fact that I couldn't run the Vault alone, and more to do with the fact that anyone in the position of Overseer could reject the advice of advisers and run the Vault as they desired, no matter how cruel or detrimental to the community it was. I'd read enough pre-war history books that I knew better than to allow anyone such power. The council would have to have the power to overrule the Overseer if the need were to arise, and would vote on whether or not to implement new rules. It would have to consist of an odd number of people to avoid ties. I figured five would be enough. Under the third task, I wrote:

 _Members:_

 _1\. Security Chief_

 _2\. Overseer_

 _3\. Deputy Overseer_

 _4\. Elected member_

 _5\. Elected member_

The last two positions would be left to an open election, while the Deputy Overseer would be hand-picked by the Overseer, as a second-in-command. I thought deeply about who would be suitable...

My thoughts were interrupted by a hail of gunfire coming from automatic weapons. Everyone leaped up, and fired their weapons at the source of the gunfire, myself included. I heard one man scream, and the gunfire stopped. My head still ringing, I pushed open the barn door.

Two of the three attackers had already been killed, while the third threw down his weapon, an assault rifle, and held his hands up while repeating, "I surrender!"

Gomez and Amata went to search the two dead attackers while Taylor shook the third man down for any hidden weapon. I looked him up and down. He was probably only a few years older than me, with brown hair that fell to cover his forehead. He was rather slim, which made his black combat armor look quite bulky.

"I-don't want any trouble!" the boy stammered, while Taylor finished patting him down, finding a handful of 10mm rounds, "J-Just let m-me go a-and I'll leave y-you alone! I swear!"

"Who are you?" I barked, trying to make myself sound intimidating. "Why did you attack us?"

"It was a private contract!" the boy said. "I-I'm with a group called Talon Company. A guy named Allistair Tenpenny hired us. Apparently had something to do with your lot killing his man and disarming that bomb in Megaton. We were ordered to kill anyone supposedly from Vault 101."

I swore. Great, a merc company calling for our heads.

"How many of you guys are there?" I interrogated.

"God, I don't even know!" the Talon Company merc replied. "A couple thousand, I think."

 _Jesus Christ,_ I thought.

"Alright then," I said, "Taylor, put this guy in handcuffs. we're taking him back to the Vault."

We stopped to rest only twice on our way back, once for lunch and to let the pack brahmin drink from the river and once because the captured merc had been begging for water. We were back at the Vault by afternoon, to find a few surprising differences.

I'd order Kendall to have a man stationed outside 24/7 in order to await our return, and he'd clearly followed my order... and gone further. A small scrap metal wall had been built just outside the Vault entrance, acting as a fortification covering the overlook. The wall was topped by small metal spikes, and included a double chain-link gate at the top of the slope leading to the entrance. I stepped up to it in, somewhat weary, to find it locked.

"You're back," said the figure dressed in Vault security armor on the other side of the gate. "We, uh... got a bit busy, sir."

"Clearly," I said to Kendall. "What's the fence for?"

"We had a few Raiders jump Officer Park while he was standing guard, sir," reported Kendall while unlocking the gate. "One of them pinned him down while two others rushed to the door. We caught them in the atrium before they could do any damage, but the attack's got everyone on edge.

"We put all three of them in the cell, and built this wall in case of more attacks. I hope you understand, sir."

"Its fine," I assured him as we filed through the gate, "We'll need all the fortification we can get. Can you get a few people out here to unload all this?"

Kendall returned later with Butch and Officer Richards, both of whom stared at the brahmin.

"Is that a _cow_?" Richards asked uncertainly.

"Something like that," I said, carefully considering my explanation. "People out here use them for carrying supplies. Put it all in storage for now, and set it aside. We'l sort through it later.

"Kendall, help these guys out and report to my office immediately."

"Yes sir."

I felt total exhaustion, and would probably have killed for a Nuka Cola and a shower, but this couldn't wait even a day.

The entire scouting team assembled with Officer Kendall and Alphonse Almodovar (the latter of whom seemed to have invited himself) in the Operations room to the side of the Overseer's office. The Talon Company merc had been transferred to the cell with the three Raiders, and was being kept under guard in case the four went at each other. I changed into a fresh jumpsuit before breaking the news.

"So the latest scouting run comes with good news and bad news," I began, not bothering to hide how tired I was. "The good news is that we got a hell of a lot of supplies, particularly weapons and spare parts. The bad news..."

I wiped sweat off of my forehead, feeling very hot under the Vault lights.

"The bad news is that our actions in Megaton seem to have attracted attention. The man we took down, Burke, was allied with a man named Allistair Tenpenny, who's hired a merc company to harass us. We were ambushed just last night."

Alphonse gave me a dirty look, as if it hadn't been Amata's choice to venture out with us. He looked about ready to speak his mind, but a warning look from Amata put an end to the tense moment, so I continued.

"The mercs that ambushed belong to a group called Talon Company. They're heavily armored, and the largest mercenary group in the Wasteland. We captured on of them and interrorgated him on our way back. He says that Talon Company accepts the contracts that other mercenaries won't, so we have to assume that there's nothing they're not willing to do."

"So what do we do about them?" asked Kendall. "How many are there?"

"Thousands, according to the man we captured," I replied. "And for the moment, we can't do much more other than observe their movements."

"You are aware that even if a few hundred men show up at our door, we'll still be cornered?" Alphonse pointed out, narrowing his eyes. "We never should have stuck our noses in Wasteland affairs."

"Dad, are you serious?" Amata spoke up. "Think of the people we saved by disarming that thing! And if that bomb had gone off, the radiation would keep us trapped down here longer than we could survive."

"Amata's right," I said firmly. "Putting aside the fact that leaving that bomb alive would be just wrong, just think for a moment if word got out that Vault 101 allowed an entire town to be wiped out. We'd have a bunch of angry Wastelanders calling for our heads."

Alphonse did nothing, merely glaring. Seeing that I had him, I pushed the argument.

"What's good for the Wasteland is good for us. We can't afford to turn a blind eye to what goes on out there. We opened the Vault for the purpose of confronting the world around us - we can't go back from the decision we made."

"The decision _you_ made," Alphonse countered. "It was you who decided to open the door and put this Vault at risk. That's on you!"

In a flash, I was out of my chair, my composure slipping.

"This Vault was at risk long before that door opened!" I told him, keeping my voice below a shout. "You were Overseer for what? Almost 30 years? Three decades of hiding down here, allowing the Vault population to shrink. I know that I've put this Vault's future at stake, but it would have no future if you got your way!"

Alphonse gave me an angry look, ready to retort. He was half out of his seat, as if about to lose his own composure, then sank back into the chair. I took a deep breath, and got back on track.

"Clearly, we're at a disadvantage," I said. "Not surprising, considering we're in an underground bunker with only one way in or out. What we need is to make ourselves visible above the ground. To expand beyond what we have. In simpler terms, we need to establish a physical presence on the surface."

"So we need to fortify the area around us," Amata realized.

"Exactly," I said with a nod. "The fence covering the overlook will do for now, but it's only a start. We'll worry about the rest tomorrow; everyone get some sleep for now. We've got a lot of work to do."

Everyone left the Operations room for the door, except for Amata, who lingered behind the others until we were alone. She turned to me, a hesitant look on her face.

"I'm sorry about that," I said immediately, unable to avoid feeling some shame. "I shouldn't have acted like that."

"I understand," Amata told me. "But can you please go easy on him? He's not getting any stronger, you know. I don't know what will happen if he gets put under too much pressure."

"Yeah, I will. I'll talk to him tomorrow, and just explain myself," I assured her. "Amata, is your dad recovering?"

Amata bit her lip before answering. "Your father doesn't think he's going to fully recover. That's just what happens at that age, he says. Stepping down has done him some good though."

The mention of my dad reminded me of something I'd been putting off; confronting him about what I'd been told by Hannon and Alphonse. I'd avoided the confrontation, mainly because it was obvious what the answer was. We hadn't been born in the Vault, that much was certain. But why had we come here? Who were my parents outside the Vault? I was half-worried about what I'd learn, but at the same time, I wanted the truth.

 _Talk to him tomorrow,_ said a voice in my head. _No point in putting it off. Just do it._

I couldn't deny it; I hadn't had a conversation with my father that wasn't strictly non-business. If I didn't bring it up, then he probably would eventually. May as well get it over with.

* * *

I looked at my tired reflection in the mirror of the apartment I shared with my father, the steam from the shower rising around me. I'd had the option of my own apartment when we moved out, but I wasn't ready to leave my father alone until I knew he could take care of himself.

My thoughts strayed from my father's condition, to how much he'd progressed since stepping down, and finally... to Ryan. I'd been worried early on if he'd be able to handle the job, considering that he'd be facing whatever was on the outside. I'd struggled through my brief few days as Overseer; ensuring that the vents were repaired, dealing with the wounded, and making sure everyone stayed in their rooms while the security team mopped up the remaining radroaches. I hadn't been ready for it, and I probably wouldn't be for a long time.

My father had always told me that I would be the one to succeed him as Overseer, and I'd always wanted to do so. It was probably why Ryan and I were so close; we both wanted to do something meaningful. But now, after seeing what the job was like, I wasn't so sure now.

 _You're only 19,_ I reminded myself. _You've had no time to prepare. When you're older and ready, it'll be easier._

That was if the job was even open when I was older and ready. I didn't know how long Ryan would be Overseer, or if there would even be an Overseer after him. With the Vault open to the outside world, there was no predicting the future anymore.

"Amata?" came my father's voice from outside the door. "Are you alright in there?"

"Yeah I'm fine," I called back, changing into a clean Vault 101 jumpsuit. From the outside, I heard the low buzzing noise of the doorbell, and my father's footsteps, then...

"Ryan? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk about last night," came Ryan's voice. "Is this a bad time?"

"No," my father said cautiously. "Come on over and sit down. What did you want to discuss?"

I heard the couch in the next room let out a quiet groan as Ryan must have sat down.

"It's about our attitudes last night," Ryan was saying. "First of all, I admit that I should have kept my composure last night. It wasn't right of me, as Overseer, to address you, a former Overseer, in that sort of tone."

There was a short silence, then my father said, "Well, I'm surprised. I always thought you were too proud for apologies."

I sighed, suddenly feeling quite a lot of sympathy for Ryan. My father could drive anyone mad.

"This isn't an apology," Ryan said, more firmly. "There's something else we have to discuss."

"Go on, then."

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way," Ryan said. "I understand that you might not be used to not being part of this Vault's affairs, being Overseer for so long, but I need for you to step back for a moment."

My father was silent, but I heard him shifting on the couch in the living room.

"This Vault is in disarray at the moment," Ryan continued. I heard him pacing. "Before long, word will get out all around that Vault 101 is open. How long will it be before people start asking to be let in? One man and a de facto council won't be enough when this Vault begins to grow."

"So you want an organized chain of command?"

"Exactly. Here, I spent the trip back working on the idea. I want a permanent council to govern in my place and handle this Vaults' affairs when our population starts to grow."

There was a long silence. I decided to make myself known.

Ryan's head snapped in my direction when I entered the room, while my father only glanced up from the notes he was reading.

"Oh sorry, Amata. I didn't realize you were home."

I gave a shrug in response, as if to say _no problem._

"I was just...uh... talking with your father about an idea I had," Ryan said, rather hesitantly.

"I can see you've put a lot of thought into this," my father said, passing the notes back to Ryan. "The only real trouble would be electing a council member to fill the gap if the 'Deputy Overseer' took office."

"Can someone fill me in please?" I asked, feeling rather foolish. Ryan handed me the notes, and I read them over.

 _The Vault Council will govern the Vault in the event that the Overseer is unable to attend to his/her duties. In the event that the Overseer is not expect to return to their position, the Deputy Overseer, chosen by the Overseer themselves, will fill the position and choose a Deputy Overseer of their own. Under normal circumstances in which the Overseer is able to fill their position, each Council member will be assigned their own duties and report their progress to the rest of the Council at weekly meetings. The Council will vote anonymously on any new laws passed in the Vault or on any actions which may effect the Vault population. The Council will consist of:_

 _The Overseer_

 _Deputy Overseer_

 _Security Chief_

 _Elected member (to oversee Engineering and Maintenance Departments)_

 _Elected member (to oversee Medical and Science Departments)_

 _(Only a permanent Vault resident who is NOT in charge of one of the departments mentioned above can hold a Council Position. Inability to fulfill Council duties will result in dismissal from the council)._

I handed the notes back to Ryan. "Seems solid enough."

"I'm still working on the minor details," Ryan replied. "I want to have this system in place before the next scouting trip. Anyway, unless there's anything else, there's something else I gotta do."

* * *

I still had that sick feeling in my stomach, which only intensified the closer I got to the clinic. Just before I walking in, I took a deep breath and promised myself that I wouldn't lose it in there.

My father was talking with Jonas, who still had a few fading bruises. When they saw me walk in, they exchanged a glance. Both knew why I'd come, apparently. Jonas excused himself and rushed past me without a word, leaving the two of us alone.

"I was wondering if you were coming," my dad finally said after a long, uncomfortable silence. "After all these weeks, I'd begun to think you'd forgotten it."

"I haven't forgotten," I replied bluntly. "I just accepted what I could figure out. We weren't born down here."

"That is true," my dad admitted with a small nod. "Your mother and I, we worked on a project at the Jefferson Memorial in Washington, where you were born. The plan was to create a water purifier big enough to give the region a clean source of water. We called it Project Purity.

"But the project stalled. The Brotherhood of Steel stopped sending men to defend us, and the Super Mutants attacked daily. When your mother died, I didn't have any choice but to leave. I brought you here, knowing that you would be safe and that I could, to an extent, continue working.''

"And years later?" I asked him. "Have you gotten anywhere?"

My father bit his lip and looked at the ground for a moment. "I've made some progress, but there's only so much I can do from down here. If I want to revive Project Purity, then I'll have to return to Washington D.C and assemble the team again."

I thought for a moment, not really feeling anything. It was as if my emotions had been shut off.

"That probably won't happen any time soon," I finally told him. "If you haven't heard yet, there's a merc company after our heads."

My father's eyes shot up to look at me. "What?"

"We were ambushed a few days ago out in the wasteland, I explained. "We captured one of them, but they've got thousand more firepower than we have. For the time being, I don't think it's safe to allow people just to come and go as they please."

"I suppose there's no other option," my father said with a sigh. He looked at me. "Ryan, if what you say is true, then our Security Team won't be enough to keep this Vault safe. We need everyone in this Vault ready, and more."

I called an assembly in the cafeteria the next day, with attendance being mandatory for everyone of working age... which was more or less everyone in the Vault. I climbed up to the temporary stage that had been erected, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.

"What I'm going to tell you all today will be very confronting, and will be difficult for us to handle as a community. During our latest scouting trip, we were ambushed by a mercenary group known as Talon Company."

A low murmur went through the crowd. I ignored it.

"Their numbers range in the low thousands, and they have been paid to target anyone from Vault 101."

The low murmuring turned into shouts of fear and outrage. I held up a hand.

"Everyone please settle down!" I called out firmly. The room fell silent. "Now, I know this seems like an impossible situation, but I believe that we can overcome this crisis. For now, Talon Company doesn't seem to be actively hunting us, but in the event of an offense on our Vault, we need to be prepared. Firstly, I want everyone over the age of thirteen to be trained to operate a gun, provided they are physically and mentally fit to do so."

A few shouts of dissent rose up from the families of young children. Officer Kendall caught my eye from the door. I could tell from the resigned look on his face that he wasn't thrilled about the prospect of his daughters using guns, but he understood the necessity.

"Secondly!" I continued when the room fell silent again. "While I have decided that keeping you all locked up down here would be a mistake, I cannot allow people to enter and leave the Vault as they please. So, nobody under the age of thirteen or untrained in firearms will be permitted to exit the Vault, and anyone under the age of 18 must be accompanied by a parent or adult guardian. A full list of regulations will be posted to every public terminal and pinned on the noticeboard in the diner. A word of advice though; if you do plan to leave, I'd suggest you find something else to wear out their other than your Vault suits."

There were no cries of dissent at this. The crowd merely stood silent, processing the information. Alphonse Almodovar had convinced them that the Vault door would never open, and anyone who ever spoke about leaving would be forced into a psych evaluation. For Vault 101's dwellers, leaving was a fantasy they never thought about.

"Finally," I said after giving them enough time to think. "I've decided that it is in the best interest of the Vault that we continue the process of electing a Overseer after a certain period of time. So, in 2281, another election will take place, and a new Overseer will be voted in. And as our population grows again, I'm announcing the formation of a permanent council which will be able to govern a large community. The council will consist of five members, the Overseer included, and vote on rules passed or actions taken regarding the Vault's future."

The atmosphere in the room had gone from dissent to surprise to approval. People exchanged glances that seemed to say, _fair enough._

"The Council will consist of two elected members in charge of different departments. The roles of each council member will be posted to every public terminal, along with information on the election. That is all."

The crowd dispersed. I looked around, my eyes resting on Officers Gomez and Kendall. Gomez was urgently whispering into Kendall's ear, while glancing over at me. I frowned as they approached.

"Sir, Gomez has just informed me of a transmission we received minutes ago," Kendall reported. "He says you should listen to it immediately."

"What does it say?" I asked Gomez.

"Crazy if you ask me sir," Gomez told rolling his eyes. "They call themselves the United States government and say they're coming to restore America. Load of bullshit, probably."

They certainly seemed crazy, considering how Gomez had described them. Still, I was extremely curious.

And then I heard the message.

"You have gotta be kidding me!" I exclaimed as the recording ended. "They can't be serious!"

Just to be sure I'd heard it right, I played the message again.

 _"Hello, dwellers of Vault 101. I am John Henry Eden, President of the United States. Firstly, I want to congratulate you on maintaining Vault 101 for 200 years. By sheltering away from the Wasteland inside your Vault, you have ensured that this great nation can be rebuilt by true Americans, untouched by radiation._

 _"It is for this reason that I urge you to cease all exploration outside of Vault 101. By exposing yourself to irradiated Wasteland above, you have put yourselves at risk of mutation. As far as we know, your community is the last group of pure, unmutated Americans, which places the future of our country in your hands. Therefore, it is vital that you do not allow yourselves to become vulnerable to the sickness that inhabits the surface._

 _"But do not fear, Vault 101, for the Enclave, the last bastion of hope for America, is not far. When the Enclave forces under the command of Colonel Autumn arrive at your Vault, do not hesitate to welcome them. They will take good care of you and ensure your safety in exchange for your cooperation. With your assistance, we can make the United States of America the great nation in once was."_

"If they really are the U.S government, which I sincerely doubt," said Gomez. "then surely they'd have pre-war records. How can they not know what our situation is?"

"Sir, if I may," Kendall spoke up. "While I do not agree with letting strangers into our Vault, this 'Enclave' could have access to more advanced technology and firepower than us. Resisting them could have it's own consequences."

"That wouldn't surprise me," I replied. "I'll talk to my father. Perhaps he's heard of these people."

Kendall gave a respectful nod, but looked uncomfortable; the fact that my father and I had almost ignored each other had not been kept secret. It wasn't as if we'd been seen together that much anyway; my father was usually working late at night, not coming back to the apartment until everyone else had gone to sleep. But now people seemed to have guessed that we were deliberately avoiding each other. Welcome to the Vault 101 rumor mill.

Kendall came to my office three days later to (respectfully) give me his resignation. He looked regretful, but not uncertain.

"I'm sorry it came to this sir," he told me. "But I've got a family here, and I can't put my daughters through the fear of losing their father one more time."

"I understand," I said. "It's been good to have you by my side. What will you do now?"

Kendall paused for a moment, thinking. "I've been considering running for a Council position. I still wanna contribute to the Vault as best I can."

"Then good luck," I told him. "The election will be in a week, and we'll conduct our first session the week after. Right now, I need to name a new Security Chief and Deputy Overseer."

"Not sure if it's my place sir, but I'd suggest Officer Gomez for the former."

"That's what I was thinking," I replied. "He's the most level-headed guy on the Security team. He knows how to balance force and thinking."

Kendall nodded. "As for the latter, I really can't offer any advice."

I paused, uncertain as to whether I should speak my mind or not. I decided I should. "Well my first candidate would be Amata. There's nobody else I trust more than her, but I've seen how much it took for her to keep going before I got elected. I don't want her under any more stress than she's under already."

Kendall nodded, pausing again and crossing his arms. "Well, she is quite young for a leadership position, but then again so are you. Not to mention that you might not be Overseer by 2281, given the circumstances. And if that happens... well, we both know how much people in here look up to her."

I nodded, deep in thought.

"Perhaps it would be a good learning experience for her," Kendall suggested. "By holding the position of Deputy Overseer, it would prepare her for a role as leader of the Vault."

"Perhaps. Thanks for the advice."

"Any time, Ryan."

* * *

If there was one place in Megaton that was strangely welcoming yet made you feel uneasy, it was Moriarty's Saloon. Perhaps it was the faint, easily miss-able bloodstains on on of the chairs in the sitting room off to the side of the bar. Or perhaps it was Colin Moriarty. Whenever he wasn't verbally abusing Gob or Nova or noting down the saloon's supplies, he was usually watching conspicuous patrons from the storeroom doorway, half in shadow. If you weren't looking for him, you'd miss him.

 _You can't run,_ his eyes would say, _You may feel safe, surrounded by all these people. But they can't help you._

Megaton's sheriff had warned me about Moriarty when I'd arrived earlier in the day. Thankfully, he hadn't recognized my grey and black uniform, but I still went to Craterside Supply and bought a new set of clothes anyway. If anyone knew where I'd come from, they'd probably shoot me in my sleep. Not that I planned on sleeping here.

The absolute second I noticed Moriarty, I ignored him and took a seat at the bar and order a beer from Gob, the ghoulified bar man. Even as I sat there, tilting my head up only to take a sip from my beer, I could feel Moriarty's eyes on me. I couldn't let him take any more interest in me; he'd sell me out to the Enclave if it meant caps for him.

"I'm looking for someone," I told Gob, forcing my eyes not to stray towards Moriarty. "Whoever the hell's in charge of that local Vault."

"You want Ryan?" Gob rasped while polishing a shot glass. "He's the Overseer. He stops by Megaton every now and then to trade with Moira, sometimes with a couple of security guards. Lately, he's been coming out on his own in the dead of night."

"Is that so?" I said, taking a cautious sip of my beer. Why would the Overseer be sneaking out of his own Vault?

"Guess you didn't hear," Gob told me. "They're being harassed by those Talon Company dipshits. You noticed the bomb out there in the town's center? Well he and a Vault mechanic showed up to disarm it just over a week ago. Guess someone wasn't happy about it, and hired Talon Company to give 'em hell. They've been trading fire whenever the cross paths."

Gob's face turned into a scowl. "Bastards. They give mercs everywhere a bad name. Hey, what's your business with that Vault anyway? If you don't mind me ask-oh, here he is."

I turned around in my seat. The blue jumpsuit made me realize who Gob was talking about, but I still didn't believe it.

"You sure?" I said uncertainly to Gob.

This guy was from Vault 101; the number on his collar proved that. But the Overseer? There had to be a story behind this. I guessed that he'd be, at most, 20. His dark brown hair, cut fairly short and oddly tidy, didn't have a speck of gray, and his barely-noticeable stubble didn't make him look any younger. But still, there was something about him that made me question my first impressions. I got no sense of fear from him. In face, he seemed fairly relaxed... or overconfident. Either way, he was my ticket in.

"Hey Gob," he said, sitting down at the unoccupied seat next to me. "You got anything that isn't alcohol?"

"Nuka Cola," Gob replied, sliding the glass bottle of dark liquid over. The Vault dweller handed him ten bottlecaps.

"Talon Company still giving you guys hell?" asked Gob as 'Ryan' took a gulp of Cola.

"Yeah, big surprise," Ryan grumbled. "They haven't made a move on the Vault itself...yet. Hopefully we can fortify the area around us before they do. Thank God we've finally got the Council in business. We'll be taking in Wastelanders before long."

"Does that extend to ghouls?" said Gob, half pleading. "I'd rather live underground than in this shithole."

"The locals will have to get used to... your type," Ryan said slowly, as if unsure how to say what was on his mind. "It's gonna be hard for them, getting used to so many different people. But I've got faith in them."

While they had their conversation, I thought about how to approach the Overseer. The saloon was too open for any kind of talk, especially with Slippery Moriarty back there eyeing us like a hawk. It would have to be somewhere secluded, if not the Vault itself.

After Gob left, I decided it was now or never. I kept my head tilted down so that Moriarty would see me talking, and tried to move my mouth as little as possible.

"You're the Overseer, right?" I whispered to Ryan. "Don't show any reaction, Moriarty's watching us."

The Vault dweller blinked once, but other than that made no indication that he'd heard me.

"I can help you out with Talon Company and the Enclave. Meet me in the ruins of Springvale by your Vault," I continued. "Yes, I know the Enclave contact you. And yes, I know where your Vault is. You know where to find me."

With that, I finished my beer and left. Now, all I could do was wait.


	5. Chapter 5

"Amata, you need to relax," my father insisted.

"Oh God, oh God," I repeated, pacing the apartment. "How can I do this?"

"Amata," my father said, standing up and putting his hands on my shoulders. "Relax. Take a deep breath."

I did as he said, and felt a little calmer.

"Good. Now I know that this is an overwhelming position for you. But this time, you can be prepared. You won't be thrust into the role like you were before."

"But what do I do?"

"Take note of what Ryan does," my father advised. "How he conducts himself and how he does his job. And don't forget to ask him about his decisions. He's your friend, he won't say no to helping you."

He paused for a moment to look at me. "To be perfectly honest, I wish I hadn't dismissed him the way I did when you were kids. Now I think he's the greatest man this Vault's ever had. I don't regret for a second letting him and his father into the Vault."

I didn't know what to say. My father gave a quiet sigh.

"You have feeling for him, don't you?"

"Huh?" was all I could say, the words not really coming through to me.

"I've seen how you are around him," my father told me. "It's like you almost...feel more relaxed around him."

He wasn't entirely wrong. Ryan and I had known each other for so long that being nearby almost made me feel calmer, more at peace. But was that the only reason? Or was there really something more? And how did Ryan feel about it?

"I don't know," was the only true thing I could say, unable to really give a definitive answer.

"I understand. And, being perfectly honest, I think he's a better man than anyone else in the Vault who's your age. Whatever your relationship turns into...I just want you to know that I'm okay with it."

* * *

I made my way back to Vault 101 in the dead of night, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into. The guy in Megaton didn't seem like anybody special; just another Wastelander passing through. When he'd singled me out, it was all I could do to avoid reacting. Colin Moriarty had been watching, as per usual, and he'd not hesitate to screw me over for a few caps.

I'd taken a big risk, leaving the Vault in the middle of the night. I didn't want to pressure Amata into leading so soon. Besides, if they needed me, they could always send out a radio message for me to pick up on my Pip Boy, and that was in case of emergencies.

The Wastelander was waiting for me at the base of the scenic overlook by the Vault entrance. His gun, some kind of energy weapon, was holstered, but he kept his right hand close to it.

"Alright," I told him. "I'm listening. You say you can help us with Talon Company. How?"

"My name is William Newman," the man said. "I'm the sergeant of an Enclave fire team stationed on the Potomac River. When we got word that we were to violently take over your Vault if you refused us entry, we deserted and attempted to warn you. My team's been captured by the Enclave."

A warning bell went off in my head, but I pushed it aside and motioned for him to go on.

"I have with me the routes of nearby Enclave patrols, as well as reports of Talon Company squads. If you agree to my terms, I will give you the plan I have in mind."

"And these terms are?"

"Sanctuary," William said simply. "If I agree to help you against Talon Company and the Enclave, you will allow my team and I living space within Vault 101."

I was waiting for some outrageous demands, but I got none. Everything he said was reasonable, and most was certainly possible. Except for one…

"If we can locate your team," I pointed out. "You know where they're being held?"

"A place called Minefield," William told me. "Heard of it?"

I nodded, Minefield was up north, but not far. Mounting a rescue wouldn't be hard.

"Okay then," I told William. "We have a deal. Come inside. I'll call the Council together."

* * *

The private channel reserved for Council members gave off a beeping sound on my Pip Boy. Looking down, I tuned into the system.

" _All Council Members are required in the Operations Room immediately on the orders of the Overseer," announced the robotic voice. "If you are unable to attend, the Overseer must be notified."_

"Gotta go," I told my father as he came out of the shower, his hair still damp. "Council meeting."

I joined Ryan, Security Chief Gomez, Edwin Brotch and John Kendall in the operations room, along with another man I'd never seen. He was dressed in typical Wasteland garb, but his face was shaved and his greying hair neat and short. He looked to be around middle-age, but was clearly still physically healthy.

"Council, this is William Newman," Ryan announced, taking a seat. "Newman is a former Enclave sergeant who deserted along with his squad, who have since been recaptured. He's come to offer us an agreement; we allow him and his squad to join our community, and he will help us with Talon Company and the Enclave, should the need arise."

Kendall and Gomez both looked suspicious, while Edwin Brotch looked deep in thought. Finally, he said to Newman, "I'm sure we're all grateful for your help, sir. But I don't understand why you wish to help us."

Newman stepped forward. "My men and I deserted the Enclave after we were informed of President Eden's attempt to contact this Vault. Our orders were to use deadly force if you did not comply. We were openly against the decision. When our objections were ignored, we agreed to disregard our orders in the same fashion. My men were captured en route to here."

Edwin nodded in understanding. "So you simply wish for your men to be rescued and brought into our community?"

"Well, that's all I ask of you, but I have other plans as well," Newman admitted. "I consider myself a patriot, which is why I joined the Enclave in the first place. And I believe that the Enclave can indeed make this country great again. However, under Eden's leadership, the Enclave only serves its own interests. It sees the people of the Wasteland as mutants who need to be eradicated for America to be reborn. That is a mentality I can no longer support.

"When this is all over, I intend to assume leadership of the Enclave and put its technology to helping the people of the Wasteland and building this country the right way."

I was hesitant to believe him. If he was telling the truth, then the Enclave was more powerful than any of us could imagine. Having the Enclave as an ally would indeed be beneficial for the Vault, and for the Wasteland if this deserter did take power. However, could we win a war against the Enclave? If they had such technology, then N99's and the small collection of arms we'd scavenged wouldn't be enough to defend ourselves. Surely William Newman was aware of that?

Just as I began to doubt him, Newman erased them. "In my possession are the reports of areas controlled by Talon Company and Enclave patrol routes. If we were to…have them meet, then we could turn one group against the other."

Of course! I felt almost foolish for not seeing it. Let the mercs and the Enclave fight each other, drawing their attention away. It was really that simple.

"A solid plan," Gomez admitted. "But how exactly do we get Talon Company and the Enclave to attack each other?"

"We don't," William told him. Gomez looked bemused, and Kendall looked like he had no intention of supporting this plan. "What we need are sets of Enclave power armor and Talon combat armor, as well as weapons from both sides. My men can operate the Enclave equipment in an assault against Talon Company, and we can send a few men from the Vault, or a few hired mercs, to pose as Talon soldiers and fire on the Enclave. Both groups will accuse the other, and soon they'll go at it for real. The Enclave will cripple or destroy Talon Company altogether, but at a price. Coupled with their war against the Brotherhood of Steel, they'll be fractured. That's where I'll come in."

"Wait," Kendall spoke up, frowning. "You're going to send half the Enclave to their deaths and then take over the rest? I don't think they'll just follow you if they know you drove them to that point."

"Don't worry, the Enclave remnants won't know that I had any involvement," Newman assured him. Kendall looked doubtful, but didn't press the issue. "And besides, when Eden sees that he's failed, he'll step down without opposition. He may be ruthless, but he's not stupid. Without a leader, the Enclave will turn to anyone who offers aid."

I glanced at Ryan, who had listened silently. He was clearly deep in thought, his eyes not really looking at anyone or anything. Finally, he seemed to be nodding to himself.

"You've clearly put a lot of thought into this," he told Newman. "Council, all those in favor of accepting Newman's terms, raise your hand."

Ryan raised his hand, along with myself, Edwin Brotch, and Gomez. Only Kendall seemed opposed to the plan.

"Clear majority," Ryan pointed out. "The decision is set. Edwin, make sure Mr Newman is issue an apartment and Vault suit. Does anyone else wish to raise an issue?"

The room was silent, so Ryan finished by saying, "Very well. Council adjourned."

The Council members left, Edwin followed by William. I was the last one to leave. When I expected to hear Ryan leaving for his room or office, and heard nothing, I turned around. Ryan hadn't moved from his seat. He simply stared at the wall blankly, his hand scratching at his chin. He always did that when he was thinking.

"You okay?" I asked, not just to be polite.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Amata, can you keep this a secret?"

"Of course. We're friends."

Ryan paused and bit his lip. "I've decided that, unless something changes in the next few years, that I won't run for re-election."

I was so surprised by the news that I couldn't even respond. Ryan had just dropped a bomb that blew away everything else on my mind, completely out of nowhere.

"Why?" I said, composing myself quickly. "You've seemed on top of things since the start."

"It's not that," he said, standing up and pacing the room. "The weird thing is, every time I go out there, into the wastes, it's like something's… calling to me. Like there something out there that I have to do.

"I noticed it when we went to that old Vault, and ever since I started going out into Megaton, I can't shake the feeling."

He sighed. "I guess I just don't want to live and die without knowing what's in the rest the world."

I shuffled slightly while working on a response. "Neither do I. Especially not alone."

He looked back at me. "You wouldn't be alone. I wouldn't abandon you out there."

"Why?"

"Because..." he stopped, as if struggling to find the words. "Because I know I wouldn't be able to live without you."

My heart began beating quickly. I tried to hide my anxiety.

"Amata, there was a time, not long after the G.O.A.T, that...that I was in a bad way."

He gulped and took a breath before continuing. "It was like there was this dark presence inside of me. This feeling of dread at just getting up in the morning. I didn't feel motivated to do anything and... one night I didn't think I could go through it anymore."

He looked close to tears now. "Amata, I almost killed myself."

Hearing that was like having the breath beaten out of me. Never, in the past three years since the G.O.A.T, had I caught even a glimpse. Had I simply been blind? Had I been ignorant of how he was feeling? I felt horrible.

"Ryan, I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't know."

"I understand," he said. "I did my best to hide it. I didn't want to force my troubles on everyone else. One night, I'd smuggled some Med-X out of the storeroom and I was about to start injecting it all when...when I thought of you.

"The thought of not seeing you again was more unbearable than living down here forever. I wanted to live and be a part of your life more than I wanted to die and turn away from everything. And after that, I felt...better, when I was around you. The thought of living down here became bearable, just as long as you'd be with me."

I listened silently, with no idea on how to respond. Was this his way of confessing some hidden feelings for me? Or just an explanation of everything he'd done for me? I couldn't read his expression; Ryan was good at only showing his feelings when he wanted to.

"Ryan..." I said, barely louder than a whisper. Without a second thought, I moved around the table to him and pulled him into a hug.

In that moment, I forgot about all the troubles that past two months had brought on. Instead, all I felt was a sense of safety. A sense of peace.

* * *

Ryan and William Newman left at noon the next day, making their way into the D.C ruins to contact the Brotherhood of Steel with the plan of bringing them into the fold. I assumed the position of Acting Overseer and, for lack of a better candidate, brought on Jonas to maintain a five-person Council. Ryan would only be gone for two-three days, but he stressed to me the protocols he'd decided on.

I spent the time looking through years worth of files, not really searching for anything. There weren't many documents that went back more than ten years. So when I pulled out a written Overseer's log entry from 2258, it was with a nagging curiosity. I read over it.

 _September 17_ _th_ _, 2258_

 _Overseer Taylor has died on a scouting run, and the Vault has been left without a leader. I wasn't technically elected, but the others have realized that there is no one else that can govern the Vault._

 _Given the nature of Taylor's demise, I've decided that my first choice as Overseer will be to seal the Vault door permanently. Not only is it my duty to the Vault, but it is my duty to my wife and daughter to ensure that the dangers of the Wasteland do not enter our home._

 _It is the sad truth that the world above in beyond saving. Nothing but radiation and suffering lies above, and it is best that the Vault remain sealed, so that it's inhabitants will remain safe from the filth that has covered the world._

There were two more entries above it. One was dated about a year later.

 _Some wastelander stumbled into the Vault entrance tunnel today with a baby boy in his arms. Good God, not even Amata cries as loud as this one does. He said his name was James Moore, and that he's looking for shelter. Normally, I would refuse such a request. But this 'James Moore' has medical experience, and given that our last doctor took his own life and nobody's slated for the medical track, I made an exception. Not to mention that I just couldn't leave a child out there. He's only a year old. What kind of monster would leave a baby out there?_

 _The adults have all agreed to keep this a secret. Hopefully, nobody will ever know that a wastelander lived in Vault 101. And hopefully the child never has kids of his own. Last thing I want is his tainted genes getting mixed in with the rest of us. And I'm going to have to keep him away from Amata. She deserves better than to be exposed to some Wasteland trash._

Despite how old the entry was, I still felt a cold spike of anger. While my father had never referred to Ryan as 'wasteland trash', he had still always looked at Ryan just as that; 'trash'. Like some kind of parasite that you couldn't kill. He'd kept it somewhat hidden when we were young, but once we transitioned into teenagers, he made it perfectly clear whenever he could how much he despised Ryan. I couldn't help but be amaze at his recent change of heart.

The last entry jumped forward another year.

 _I can't believe it. My wife, the woman I've loved for twenty years, has died. It was so sudden. The ceiling panel just dropped out of nowhere and knocked her out cold. We got her to the clinic as soon as we could, but it wasn't enough._

I stopped reading, a lump forming in my throat. The sentences were a scrawling mess that barely resembled my fathers' handwriting. The tone went from sorrow to anger.

 _James insisted he did all he could, but he's a liar. A filthy little liar, and his brat son will be no different. I wish I had never let that bastard into the Vault. I'd kick him and that little monster of his out now if Amata hadn't taken a liking to the little brat. Goddamit, this was a mistake! An absolute mistake. I hope to God James Moore and that little shit Ryan both burn in hell. And James can take his sympathy and shove it. I don't care about his dead wife, or his fucking son for that matter. I'm going to make him and his brat pay for this._

The entry ended there. The words had long since gone out of their lines, going almost diagonally across the page. I sat there, unable to believe that my father had written such a thing. To threaten to kill someone was one thing, but a two-year-old child? I couldn't imagine my father doing that, not even at his worst.

I folded the paper carefully and stowed it in my pocket. I didn't want to ruin my relationship with my father, not after it had recovered so well. I turned to the only person I could at that moment; James Moore.

"Hello Amata," James said, smiling. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to ask you about something," I said. James turned away from his terminal to look at me.

"Of course. What is it?"

I handed him the hateful entry. "This was dated the day my mother died."

James' expression turned solemn almost immediately, and I suddenly became away of just how old he was. Surely he was over fifty by now.

"Oh, I remember this," he said quietly, reading the entire rant. When he got to the last paragraph, his expression briefly turned into a scowl.

"I don't mean to bring up old wounds," I said quickly. "But I don't want my father to think I'm trying to hold his old ways against him, and Ryan's away…"

"I understand," he said, handing the page back. "Well, your mother… she had an accident. A ceiling panel came loose and fell on her. It was an unbelievable stroke of misfortune. The guards carried her in, but the head trauma was just… too severe.

"Amata, please try to understand that I did everything I could. And when Sandra didn't wake up, it devastated me. I'd been through the same situation once when Ryan was born. Catherine had problems from the pregnancy, and I couldn't save her. So when I once again failed to save someone, and robbed another child of her mother, I didn't think I'd forgive myself."

"Did…did my father make it clear how he felt?" I asked. James almost smiled.

"Oh, he certainly did," he recalled. "He ranted at me for hours when I gave him the news, and he wouldn't let me or Ryan anywhere near you for weeks. It doesn't surprise me that your father felt the way he did. Losing someone so close to you… sometimes you just have to let it all out."

I was silent, unsure of what to say. I sat down in the chair by his desk, where I'd sat so many times during medical exams, while my dad had watched like a hawk.

"I think that's why he was always here during your examinations," James said, as if reading my thoughts. "After so many years, he still didn't trust me. I know it was just as frustrating for me as it was for you.

"I just want you to know that I don't hold any of it against your father. I've seen men driven to far worse things, and for him to make such a recovery is not an easy thing to do."

As I sat there listening, I realized just how little I actually knew about James, despite knowing him my entire life. I knew he'd worked on some kind of project before coming here, but other than that, his life was a mystery.

"James, can I ask you where you came from?" I asked, rather hesitantly.

"Originally? Well, my parents always told me that our ancestors were from California," James recalled. "When the bombs fell, my family apparently went into Vault 13. 84 years later, the Vault's water chip failed, and one dweller went out to find a new one.

"My grandparents told me stories of the one who left the Vault. When he came back, the Vault turned him down, exiling him. He founded a small village, which apparently grew into a large city, not that I was there to see any of it.

"By the time I was born, we were living in the Mojave Wasteland, not far from Las Vegas, which for some reason hadn't been hit."

"You mean there was an entire city left untouched?" I said in disbelief.

"Not a whole city," James shook his head. "But most of Vegas survived. Regardless, we relocated to the Capital Wasteland, where I met Catherine and the rest of the team. But once she died, I had to find a way to keep Ryan safe, so I brought him here."

He reached under his desk, and dragged out a footlocker that I'd never seen before. I stepped around the desk to see the contents.

"This is one of the few things I have left from the west coast," he told me. "Saved my hide more than a few times."

He lifted the lid of the locker to reveal… a Vault suit. But not any Vault suit; the color had only slightly faded with age, a metal brace covered the left shoulder, and on the back was a large yellow 13 instead of a 101. It looked ancient.

"How old is this thing?" I asked him, examining the Vault suit. It closely resembled the armored jumpsuit Ryan had got from Moira.

"Over a century," James replied. "Allegedly, it belonged to the Vault Dweller, an old legend on the west coast. The old stories make him sound just like Ryan. Compassionate, rational, brave, intelligent. I'd planned to give this to him, in case he ever did have to venture into the Wasteland."

He looked troubled, like there was something on his mind that he couldn't say.

"I still want to give this to him, when the time is right."

"You should," I told him. "It's the closest thing to an heirloom you guys have."

A beeping sound emitting from my Pip-Boy, which I recognized as the signal for the private radio channel reserved for Council members.

" _All Council members report to Vault 101 main entrance immediately,"_ said the robotic voice through the built in speaker.

I excused myself, then half-jogged up to the closed Vault door, where the rest of the Council was waiting along with two security guards.

"Situation?" I asked Gomez.

"We've got a group of ten people settled outside the Vault door," Gomez reported, bringing up his Pip-Boy, from which a cable ran to the doors' control panel. "They seem to have entered the cave for shelter and found the Vault by accident. We're monitoring them now."

The display showed a group of people idling in the cave outside. A few, such as the thin woman in ragged clothes and the two sleeping children she held onto with each hand, were sitting. Others, such as the middle-aged man with long greying hair, a beard, and a dirty military-looking jumpsuit were standing.

" _Waste of time, standing here,"_ he said decisively. _"If there was anyone decent in there, they'd have opened that door a long time ago."_ His voice was raspy, and he finished the sentence with a cough.

" _You serious?"_ asked the young man standing next to him. _"This place could be a goldmine! If we can just get this door open-"_

" _Don't bother,"_ said another, a slightly older man with dark brown hair (almost black) and thick-rimmed glasses. _"Those Vault doors are sealed with a password. And no, you can't hack the control panel. Vault-Tec built this place to be a fortress."_

He stood up from the hard rock floor and pushed his glasses up his nose to avoid them from slipping. _"Lincoln's right, Michael. That door's not opening, so we may as well leave and look for help in Megaton."_

"Chief Gomez," I said. "You and your officers stay here and have your guns ready. Everyone else, wait in the Operations room. If you hear shooting, lock the atrium door remotely. There's a control for the door on my desk."

I left Gomez, who drew his N99 along with the two officers, and went to the control panel and pulled down the lever that controlled the door.

The alarm blared and the emergency lights flash yellow. The machine lowered itself and pulled the door back with a horrible grinding noise. It slid to the side to reveal the squatters, who stood back cautiously.

Only the opportunist young man had a gun drawn. It was a hunting rifle, slightly weathered-looking, but well-maintained as I later learned.

"Put the gun down," I said, holding my hands up to show I was unarmed. "There's no need for violence."

"This Vault," the man with the glasses stepped forward. "It's operational?"

"Yes," I said. "We've got about 200 people living in here."

The young man stepped onto the threshold, stopped just before entering the Vault. "You're the Overseer, are you? Listen, we've been travelling for weeks, and my brother and sister, they're starving, ma'am. Even if you can't take us in, can you please just spare some food or medicine? We won't make it out there."

"I'm not technically the Overseer," I replied without hesitation. "I'm just holding the position until he gets back. But I can give your group temporary shelter, food, and medical treatment until the Overseer returns to make the final judgement."

"Oh God, thank you!" the boy said. "My name is Michael. I can't thank you enough for this!"

The group filed in. The older man, Lincoln, eyed me and the security guards distrustfully before moving on. The guards escorted the group to the atrium, leaving me alone with Gomez.

"You know, it may be better not to get their hopes up," he said to my back. "What if Ryan doesn't let them stay?"

"He'll let them stay," I assured him. "He's a decent person."

* * *

The Citadel wouldn't have stood out against the rest of D.C without the giant crane set atop it to control the large front door. Like all the other ruined buildings, it had turned a dark, depressing grey. However, the Brotherhood of Steel flag, sentry bots, and power armour-clad guards made it clear to anyone who took a good look that this facility was up and running.

Only one of the guards out front had his face exposed. The rest wore helmets. He eyed me distrustfully as William and I approached, accompanied by two Vault security guards.

"Can I help you, civilian?" he said as we stepped onto the concrete floor in front of the enormous metal door that put our own Vault entrance to shame.

"I'm Ryan Moore, Overseer of Vault 101," I said. "We need to see whoever's in charge immediately."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Only authorized personnel can enter the Citadel, let alone speak with Elder Lyons. Now, move along."

"It concerns the Enclave," William spoke up. "Now, can we come in? Or is the Brotherhood going to miss out on a opportunity to clean up the two biggest blights on the Capital Wasteland?"

The guard scowled, but not without mixing it in with a doubtful look. "I'll have to clear it," he said, turning to the intercom speaker on the wall. He pressed the button below it, and the speaker let off faint static.

"Elder Lyons, we have four men outside claiming to be from Vault 101. They say they have information concerning the Enclave."

When the guard finished, all I could hear was static and indistinct voices. Finally, a voice said, "Let them in, Paladin Bael."

The great door of the Citadel rose up, lifted by the giant crane set atop the building. It made a grinding noise just like the Vault door, but I suspected that to be from age and poor maintenance than simple design.

The door had sat at what had once been the corner of the Pentagon, which had long since been obliterated and replaced by empty air. Bordering the space were the crumbling remains of hallways and offices, and directly in front of me was a tiny covered area with a set of double doors.

"Elder Lyons will see you now," Paladin Bael grumbled. "But mark my words; one bit of attitude, and you're out of here."

On reflection, I'm not sure what I expected of the Citadel. On one hand, I was expecting something in much less of a ruin than everything else. On the other hand, this was a nuclear wasteland, so I guess it wasn't really fair of me to expect something grand.

One thing I'm certain of is this; by pre-war standards, the Citadel/Pentagon was an unsalvageable ruin. But by Wasteland standards, it was a palace. Sure, most of the building had probably been bombed to the point of being beyond repair, but it was a military installation, so that wasn't exactly surprising.

The Citadel's courtyard was the center of activity. Between the paths branching off in five directions, a hand-to-hand fighting ring and several shooting ranges were set up. Bullets and laser fire left marks in the practice dummies, fired by recruits clad in metal and fabric armor, which was significantly less bulky than the standard power armor.

All in all, it wouldn't hold up to pre-war standards. Not by a long shot. But it was impressive.

A man was approaching, accompanied by a young woman in power armor, minus the helmet. The man was elderly, with a long beard somewhere in-between grey and white and a bald held. The woman was maybe around 30 at the oldest, with blonde hair that was tied back. Perhaps she looked older than she really was. Battle-weariness does that to you.

"I am Elder Owen Lyons," the man said, extending his hand. For someone of his age, he had quite a firm grip. "This is my daughter Sarah."

I gave a small polite nod. "I'm Ryan Moore, Vault 101's Overseer. These are Officers Richards and Wilkins, and this is William Newman."

"Good to meet the four of you," Elder Lyons said. "I'm glad to hear that the Vault has finally opened. We were beginning to wonder if there was anyone left in there."

"It's a complicated story," I replied.

"A story we'll have to hear later," said Lyons. "Follow us, please.

* * *

I heard the door outside my office open with a hiss. I remained at my desk until the speaker above the office door beeped.

"Come in," I called out. The door opened with a louder hiss. I glanced up from my notes, and was surprised to see Butch standing in the doorway, his usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found.

"Butch?"

"Hey, Amata," Butch said quietly. He sounded like the life had been sucked out of him. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, its fine," I said. And at that moment, it was fine. "What is it?"

It was when Butch sat/dropped into the seat opposite me that I noticed he was shaking. "It's Wally."

For a second, I didn't know who he was talking about. In the sudden events of the past month and a half, the Mack family had completely dropped out of my mind, and probably Ryan's too.

"What's wrong?" I asked Butch, my tone turning just as grim.

Of course, I could guess what was wrong. Wally Mack had gone from being the biggest loudmouth in the Vault to disappearing completely. I couldn't even recall the last time I saw him.

"Wally and his dad. They've locked themselves in their apartment," Butch told me. "They've kicked Susie out, and she's staying with the Kendalls."

"What about Gloria?" I asked. "And how long has his been going on?"

"Gloria's still in there," Butch said. "That asshole Allen has her working her ass off and bringing food back to them. Lazy fuckers."

"Is Allen…" I began to say, wondering if I should put it so bluntly.

"A wife-beater?" Butch finished for me. "Probably. There's a reason Steve Mack was such a sadistic son of a bitch. When it comes to Susie, he just shouts at her a lot. Wally and Gloria get the worst of it."

"Where's Gloria now?"

"On her way back to the Mack apartment. Mr Brotch is stalling. You following?"

I was a bit irritated of Butch and Edwin (as a Council member, it didn't fit to call him 'Mr Brotch') setting this up without my knowledge, let alone my O.K, but I followed Butch nonetheless. The Mack family apartment was on the upper level of the Vault, given that Allen Mack had been a trusted advisor to my father. Around the corner from the apartment door, Edwin was trying to slow down Gloria, who was trying to push past him while carrying a container of leftovers from dinner.

"Gloria, just stop and talk to me for a minute," Edwin was saying, walking backwards to stay in front and facing Gloria.

"I can't, Edwin!" Gloria insisted. "Allen's been getting drunk all day. He'll lose it if I'm late."

"We can handle Allen," Edwin reasoned. "I can get a few security guards and-"

"I don't want security here! Edwin, please just move!"

"Gloria, listen to him," I said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Mack can't take on security, we can put him in the cell and make sure you and your kids are safe."

That was only partially true. The cell was still full with the Talon Company merc and the Raiders, so the most we could do was lock Allen in an apartment of his own. The thought of giving him an apartment of his own made me feel sick, but what could we do.

"EDWIN!" came a roaring voice. "GET YOUR ASS AWAY FROM MY WIFE!"

 _Oh shit._

Allen Mack had obviously heard the commotion and was storming around the corner, looking livid.

"Allen! Stop!" I ordered. Clearly Allen wasn't going to listen to a 19-year-old, and he stormed past Edwin and grabbed Gloria by the arm.

"You're coming with me. NOW!"

"No Allen, she's not," I said firmly, grabbing her other arm. "Butch, call security over here now."

"Butch!" Allen spat. "What the fuck are you doing with this bitch? Does my son's friendship with you mean nothing to you?!"

There was the sound of feet running on metal, and Butch came around the corner flanked by three security guards.

"Allen, don't make this worse," one of the guards cautioned. "Just drop this and walk."

I felt eyes on me, and looked past the group to see Wally Mack peering around the corner, a look of pure contempt on his face.

"If you're gonna arrest my father then you better arrest me too!" he shouted, stepping out from the corner. I gave him a wave to warn him to stay out of this. Wally gave me the finger in response.

"Wally, stay out of this!" Butch yelled back, stepping between him and the argument.

"Fuck you Butch!" spat Wally, stepped forward and shoving Butch in the chest.

"Wally, we're supposed to be friends!"

"Oh, like how you're friends with Ryan now?" Wally countered. "That son of a bitch killed my brother!"

Butch scoffed and shook his head. "Your brother killed Paul, Wally! And you and Allen didn't even have the decency to show up at his funeral! I'm not the one who threw away our friendship. You did that!"

"Bullshit! I cared about what the three of us had more than either of you!"

"If you did, you would have come to pay your respects, not hide up with like a nutless wonder!"

Wally threw himself at Butch, shoulder-tackling him to the ground. One of the Vault security officers rushed past me to break them up, when there was a scuffling just behind me. I felt someone collide with me and went face-first into the wall.

I got up, massaging the sore left side of my face, and turned around. Allen Mack and taken a swing at Edwin, who was lying on the ground in a semiconscious state, groaning. Gloria had stepped back, looking scared out of her mind. The food container dropped and it's contents -Salsbury Steak and InstaMash- spiling onto the floor.

Mack was pinned against the wall by the other two security guards while the other tried to force himself between Wally and Butch, who were screaming obscenities at each other. I stepped around Edwin, who didn't look hurt (but I wasn't a doctor, so I couldn't tell for sure), and knelt down to look at Gloria, who was watching the fight with teary eyes.

"Gloria, I want you to go and stay with your daughter and the Kendalls," I said. "Can you do that?"

She glanced between me and her snarling husband, and gave a small nod before pulling herself off the floor and running off. I checked on Edwin, who's cheek was swollen, but was otherwise unhurt.

I stepped up to the intercom, hit the button, and said, "We need two Vault security officers at the Mack residence now!"

I felt something collide with me, and slammed into the wall for a second time. This time, my forehead connected with the intercom speaker, and I fell onto my back. I'd have a nasty bruise, but I was okay. I rolled onto my side and propped myself up by my forearm.

Allen had kicked one of the padded guards right into me and then shoved the second guard away with only one hand. With his sleeves rolled up, I could see the veins, dark and blue, throbbing on his arms. My mind briefly went back to what Ryan had taught me a few years ago; throbbing veins and a short temper were the most common signs of Med-X dependency.

Mack gave a snarl, spittle flying from his mouth. He shook violently, panting. He glowered at me for a brief moment, before stepping over the guard that had knocked me down and pulling his N99 and ammo.

"Send anyone after me, and they die," he growled. "Wally, get over here!"

Wally had stolen the remaining guards' baton, and knocked him out by a blow to the head. Butch had taken a whack to the stomach and gone down groaning. Wally stepped over the litter of bodies to join his enraged father, and took one long contempt-filled look at me. He spat in my face as the two of them left the hallway. As I wiped the saliva away from my eyes, I heard yelling not far down the hall.

"Get out of the way or I'll shoot you!" I heard Allen Mack shout. There was a scream, and I pulled myself up and rushed down the hall.

Allen Mack had taken Beatrice Armstrong (his sister-in-law) hostage, and was holding the pistol to the side of her head. In front of them were two guards, one of whom was Security Chief Gomez. Both men had their guns trained on Mack.

"Let her go, Mack!" Gomez ordered, his head tilted slightly to aim down the sights of his N99.

"Out of the way Gomez! Or she dies!"

"Gomez, stand down!" I ordered, coming to a stop a (somewhat) safe distance from the Macks. "Mack, let her go!"

"I'll let her go," snapped Allen. "But you're gonna kick those Wasteland assholes out of the Vault, and then you'll seal the Vault door permanently!"

"Not happening Mack!" I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. "Ryan's still out there, and we can't keep this place running without outside trading."

"Hope it's worth a life then," Mack said bluntly, his finger resting on the trigger.

"Officers, if Beatrice dies, fire on both of them!" I ordered.

Mack's breathing became heavier, and his head swiveled from me to Beatrice to the guards. Wally just glanced around uncertainly.

"Allen, I'm giving you one last chance," I said. "Put the gun down and let Beatrice go and we can still go back from this. But I won't stand for you taking residents hostage. If you don't stand down now, I can't let you stay here."

Both Macks looked like I'd just insulted them, but I thought my offer was generous. While my father had been in power, murder of any other Vault resident had been punishable by death. Ryan had abolished the policy, and replaced it with a choice of jail time or six months exile from the Vault. Allen had fired on my father on the day of the fighting, and had been confined to solitary in an unused apartment.

"Allen, this is your last warning; Put. The Gun. Down."

Allen's expression was tight-lipped, and he'd gone ghostly white. His breathing slowed, and his grip on a trembling Beatrice slackened. She ducked under his arm and fell to her knees in front of me. I helped her to her feet and pushed her behind me.

"Now lower the gun."

Allen lowered himself slowly into a crouching position, his arm outstretched, his finger off the trigger.

In an instant, he'd swung around, and fired a single shot at the two officers. The bullet went wild, missing both of them. Gomez jumped forward and tackled Allen to the ground, both guns skidding my way. Wally leaped onto Gomez and forced him against the wall, beating him over the head with the baton.

I bent down and picked up one of the pistols and aimed it at Wally.

"Stop! Get off of him!"

Wally's attack ceased and he looked at me, panting. Gomez was on the ground, groaning and cradling the arm that he'd used to block the attack.

Wally's mouth curled and his faced contorted into one of rage. He raised his baton over his head, ready to deliver another blow.

Maybe my finger twitched and pulled the trigger by accident, or maybe it was just instinct. Either way, the only shot I fired that day went straight through Wally Mack's head, blood and brains splattering onto the wall behind him. Beatrice gave a distressed yelp as her nephew fell backwards, the baton falling from his hand.

I was shaking all over as I lowered my gun and let it drop to the floor. I swayed on the spot, and leaned against the wall for support. Beatrice came up to me and put her arm around me to steady me.

"A-Amata," she said weakly. "C-Come with m-me."

We stepped around Wally's body as the two security guards restrained a frenzied Allen Mack while Butch ran to help Gomez to the clinic. When we reached the top of the stairs, I lost my footing and almost tumbled the way down. At the bottom, I bent over and allowed myself to vomit on the floor, the bile splattering all over my boots. I retched until there was nothing left to throw up.


	6. Chapter 6

**So considering the longer wait for the last chapter, I decided I'd do this quick follow-up to compensate. Sorry for the short length of this chapter. It seemed a lot longer when I first wrote it.**

* * *

William and I followed Lyons into the functional section of the facility which, while showing signs of disrepair (plaster had fallen away in some places, exposing old wires and pipes, and the now-grey paint was peeling), was still an impressive show of organisation.

We were led into a rectangular room with two u-shaped tables surrounded by chairs. The room had the faint odor of cigarette smoke, and several ashtrays smoldered around.

"Please, have a seat," Lyons offered, sitting down and gesturing for us to sit down. "So, what do wish to discuss?"

"Elder Lyons," William spoke up. "I served as an Enclave sergeant for three years until my unit deserted a month ago. I've made an agreement with Overseer Moore, and we'd like to bring the Brotherhood into the fold."

"Our scouts have been trading fire with Talon Company soldiers for weeks now," I explained. "William's explained to me a plan for the Enclave and Talon Company to distract each other."

Elder Lyons and his daughter exchanged a glance, but said nothing about William's background. Instead, the Elder said, "Ah yes. I heard what you did in Megaton. Very selfless of you not to ask for a reward. So what exactly is this plan of yours?"

"The plan is to launch an attack against both Talon Company and the Enclave while posing as the other faction," explained William. "When both factions accuse the other of blindsiding them, Talon Company will surely take the bait and turn their attention fully to the Enclave. President Eden won't have a choice but to retaliate."

Lyons and his daughter exchanged another glance, but this time it was one of mild interest.

"The Enclave will have to fight on two fronts, and they'll drain resources and manpower as long as the Brotherhood keeps up it's fight. When it's over, Talon Company will surely be wiped out, and the Enclave will be in disarray. That's where I come; I intend to regroup the Enclave's forces and rebuild it for a new purpose."

"To what end?"

"I want the same thing you do, Elder Lyons; I want the people of the Wasteland to be safe, and I believe that our combined resources can make the Capital Wasteland and beyond a safer place."

Lyons, who had been leaning forward in his chair, sat back and frowned. "It's a solid plan, but I'm sure you understand that I'm hesitant to trust someone who was loyal to the Enclave, with all the blood that's been spilled."

"Of course sir," replied William. "I regret not acting sooner. The Enclave could do a lot of good, but they're currently an even bigger threat than you realize while Eden remains in power."

Lyons' frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

William took a breath before continuing. "I broke into the Enclave archives before I left and took what I could. Documents from 2276 and 2277 show that the Enclave is showing interest in the old Jefferson Memorial, the former lab of Project Purity."

I shifted in my seat, and noticed that Lyons did the same. I remember the talk I had with my father, about the work he did before I was born.

" Elder Lyons," I said, stammering slightly. "My father worked on Project Purity. Did you know him?"

"We did speak, on occasion," Lyons admitted, nodding. "He was a very good man. Is he well?"

"Yes sir," I said. "He's the Vault physician."

"I'm very glad to hear that. Please send him my regards. Now, back to the point, why is the Enclave interested in Project Purity?"

"They've created a modified version of FEV, the mutagen that creates the Super Mutants," William explained. "The new virus is lethal to anyone exposed to radiation. While the documents don't explicitly state it, I believe they intend to reactivate the purifier and poison the water with FEV."

"That'll kill everyone in the Wasteland!" Sarah Lyons exclaimed. "Father, we can't ignore this!"

"You're right, Sarah. We can't," Lyons agreed. "Assemble the Pride and secure the Memorial."

"Yes father," Sarah replied before leaving the room.

William withdrew the documents from the pouch at his side and handed them to Lyons, who looked them over carefully.

"It seems you are telling the truth," he said, handing the notes back. "Very well. What do you need?"

"We need at least three sets of Enclave power armor and three sets of Talon Company armor, along with weapons," I said. "The Enclave are camping to the north in Minefield. We can launch an assault and take what we need."

I paused. "William's men are being held captive there. I promised him I'd get them out alive."

"We'll make sure of it," Lyons assured me. "In order to keep Vault 101's involvement a secret, I suggest any men you intend to send out with us be trained to use power armor to avoid being recognized. Talk to Paladin Gunny before you leave. He'll give you what you need."

* * *

I felt hands pulling me to my feet, heard reassuring voices telling me it'll be alright. I stumbled down to the clinic, where I was lowered onto a bed. I felt numb the entire time, unable to think of anything but Wally's brains coming out the back of his head.

I sat at the bed, my head bowed. Susie and Gloria Mack rushed into the clinic later, accompanied by John and his wife Mary.

"Amata!" Susie said very quickly, rushing to my side. "We all heard gunfire. What happened? I've been asked about my father and Wally, but nobody's telling me anything. Are they-?"

She saw the despair and remorse in my face, and her face matched it. "No! No, no, no…"

I held my head in my hands to ashamed to meet her eyes. I expected confessions of hate, or a beating like I used to get from her. But she only said nothing.

"Susie, I'm so sorry," I managed to say, struggling to control my breathing. I failed, and began gasping again.

"What's happened?!" my father's voice drifted over to me. He was demanding an answer from James, who stood in front of the door.

"Alphonse, she's okay," he insisted.

No, I wasn't okay. Here I was, sitting on a clinic bed, shaking and clutching myself, unable to look anyone in the eye.

There wasn't any going back from what I'd done. People wouldn't look at me the same. Back before the Vault had opened, I'd never been a violent person, and the only thing that ever threaten my relationship with Ryan was his tendency to get into a brawl with Butch. Attacking someone, let alone killing them, just wasn't me.

My father had pushed past James and stormed into the clinic, looking around for me. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn't life my head to meet them.

I felt Susie leave my side, only for my father to take her place. "Amata, what is it honey?"

That voice broke me. That was the voice he used whenever I thought my father had lost all love for me. The voice that reminded me that, for all his flaws, there was a spark of good inside him. A spark that, with Ryan's help, had turned into a flame.

"I…I killed Wally," I whispered, my empty stomach took another lurch. "Oh God. I killed a man."

"Why?" my father asked in a shaky voice. "What did he do?"

"He was going to kill Herman." I didn't address him by his title. Because at that moment, rank was meaningless to me. When I confessed, I saw Herman just as a fellow Vault dweller, another friend to look out for.

"Then you did what had to be done," my father said firmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "And because of it, a husband and a father lived."

That was true, and it helped settle me down a bit. I let out a breath, and felt a little better.

"I…need to go check on Gloria," I said, composing myself and standing up. My legs felt like jelly, but I didn't sit back down.

"Amata," James spoke up. "That's not a good idea. Wait until you've cleared your head."

"No time," I said simply and shook my head, which didn't help. "Ryan will be back in a day or two, and I need to show him I'm on top of this."

James sighed and nodded before stepping aside. I stepped out of the clinic and took a minute to clean myself up a bit. My mouth had been partially open the whole time, and saliva had gone down my chin. I wiped it away and pushed my hair out of my eyes. I felt cold sweat on my face, and quickly rushed into the Ladies' room. The cold water on my face help calm me down a little, and I noticed from looking at my reflection that I hadn't shed a single tear. Maybe it was the shock.

"Amata!" Gloria Mack cried in relief, running over and hugging me. "I heard the gunfire and was so worried! Thank God you're safe. I…I heard about Wally…"

Her voice cracked, and a fresh wave of shame washed over me.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, looking into her watery eyes. She'd been crying.

"It's not your fault," Gloria whispered back, managing a thin smile. "Wally just had too much of his father in him. Both my boys did…"

Her voice shook, and she was gasping for air. Behind me, Christine was sitting with Susie on the couch, while her parents looked on from their bedroom doorway in solemn silence.

"We…we can give him a proper burial," I told Gloria. "He was one of us. He deserves that."

Gloria gave another sad smile. "Thank you Amata."

"Mom, dad," said Christine. "Can Amata stay with us tonight?"

John Kendall looked at Gloria, then at Susie. Neither expressed complaint.

"Well if Amata wants to…" he murmured.

"G-Good," said Gloria. "Amata, please stay for dinner. You shouldn't be alone after today."

"Thanks guys," I said in gratitude. "I should just get cleaned up. I'll be back."

* * *

"I was told you could train my men and I to use power armor," I told the armor-clad soldier. His eyes narrowed.

"Lyons told me about you, Mr Big Shot Overseer," he said gruffly. "Yes, I can give you training that these initiates have worked their asses off for, not that I like it. Follow me."

The soldier, who introduced himself as Paladin Gunny, led me over to a power armor station, from which a set of T-45b power armor hang. The back of the armor was open, allowing someone of the right build to enter the suit and let it close around them.

"This is the T-45b armor set," Gunny explained. "It's an older model, and a bit bulky, but it does the job."

"I know, I've read about them," I replied. Upon seeing Gunny's inquiring look, I added, "I studied American military history and engineering back in the Vault. I learned all about power armor."

"Smarty-pants, huh? Okay, lose the vest and step inside."

I complied and removed the security vest, then stepped into the power armor. It closed around my body, and my vision was limited to the helmet's visor.

"Okay," came Gunny's voice, a little faint. "I'm activating the power supply."

My vision suddenly became whole again, text scrolling across my eyes. I remembered the tiny camera mounted on the helmet, and realized that it must have been transmitting to the visor. The text disappeared, and Paladin Gunny stepped in front of me.

"Okay, first thing is to relax. Take a deep breath, if that helps. And while we're on the subject, that helmet can filter out most, but not all, radiation and toxins."

I took a deep breath, and relaxed my muscles.

"Okay."

"Good. Now just let the suit do the work. The armor's designed to take most of the effort off of you. Try and step forward.

I tried to move my leg. To my surprise, I was able to step forward.

"Okay, good," said Gunny. "Try and walk around for a bit. Remember to relax whenever you enter the armor."

I did as he asked and took a short walk around. A few of the Initiates glanced at me in jealousy. The armor didn't feel heavy in the slightest, and I wasn't even particularly strong.

"Lucky you," Gunny said. "most guys take a few days to even get one foot off the ground."

"Maybe I'm Superman," I said sarcastically, smirking inside the armor.

"Smartass. Alright, walk back to the station and I'll open it up for you."

I returned to my place, and Gunny stepped behind me to power off the armor and let me out. There was a hiss as the back opened up and I stepped away.

"In case you ever do get your own suit, you can use your Pip-Boy to interface with it. It's one of the perks of having a pre-war suit," Gunny told me.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll even let you borrow my T-51b set," I joked, smirking again.

Through the glare, Gunny gave a tiny smile. "Don't push your luck, kid."

We left the Citadel the same day we arrived and made it back to the Vault by morning. An Officer was stationed outside the barricade, and I made a mental note to get Stanley to draft up some blueprints.

"Sir," the guard said. "Acting Overseer Almodovar requests your presence in the operations room immediately, and alone."

"Is something wrong?" I asked, feeling that the guard was holding something back.

"There was a…situation yesterday, sir," the guard said, looking grim. "I think you should hear it from Amata."

Amata was sitting at the Overseer's desk when I walked in. The state she was in terrified me. She was pale for one thing. And she'd clearly been crying. She was hugging herself in the way one does when they just want to turn away from everything.

"Leave us," she said shakily to the two guards stationed outside. "And shut the door."

The door hissed shut behind them, leaving us alone.

"What's happened?"

"Ryan…I…." she began. She gulped and took a breath, and continued, "There was a fight yesterday. Allen and Wally Mack attacked the security guards. Wally was attacking Herman and…I shot him."

For a moment, I simply stood there to process what she'd said. I had to word this carefully. After what had happened with Paul Hannon, I could imagine the state she was in.

"Amata," I said, kneeling down to be at her level. "What you did, it was what true leaders do. True leaders do the hard thing for the right reasons, and that's exactly what you did. It was the hard thing, but you saved a man's life by doing it."

Some color went back into Amata's eyes, and she found the strength to stand up. "I just…I just feel that…"

She struggled to find the words, but I knew what she meant.

"Like you could have saved more lives," I finished for her. she nodded. "I know the feeling. When Paul Hannon died, I couldn't help but think that I could have done it differently, that maybe Paul didn't have to die."

Amata stopped shaking, and asked the only question that mattered.

"Ryan, can I come back from this?"

Without a second thought, I pulled her into a tight hug. "Yes, you can. And you will. Because I will always stand with you, no matter how hopeless it may seem. I'll stay with you…help you learn how to forgive yourself, and you'll be stronger for it."

I didn't send her back to her room that night. Instead, I allowed her to share my bed. In her sleep, she held onto me like a lifeline, and I felt that sense of peace that I always felt whenever I was close to her. All the worries of the Wasteland vanished, and I drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**I know this is the first update in months. has been acting up on me, specifically the Document Manager, so I've been posting works on other websites. I may or may not post links to my other profiles some time in the future. Hopefully I can get the document manager problems fixed soon and I can get back to making my stories look organised again.**

I woke up from the most peaceful sleep of my life feeling refreshed. I looked over at Amata. Curled up at my side, I could only smile. You know what the worst part of Vault Depressive Syndrome is? The loneliness. The feeling that nobody is there. Whenever I was around Amata, the pain I'd kept bottled up would go away. She'd brought me back from a dark place without even knowing it, and it was the least I could do to bring her back from her dark place. Never mind the things she didn't know about how I felt.

Amata's eyes fluttered open, and her mouth spread into a smile. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I ever had," I replied. Sitting up and yawning. "C'mon, let's get up."

We both got dressed and went down to the cafeteria for breakfast. Gloria and Susie Mack weren't there, but Christine was.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked her as she piled extra toast into a container.

"My family is," she said without looking at me. "Gloria and Susie...not so much. I'm just getting breakfast for them. They're not really feeling up to going out in front of the others."

"I understand. Is it okay if I come over and talk to them? Apologize myself?"

"I think that'll be fine. I'll let them know."

Christine turned away, carrying breakfast for what was left of the Mack family.

"By the way," Amata said quietly as she left. "I gave access to a group of people two days ago. They've been given a group apartment until you make a decision on letting them in permanently. They're on the second floor if you want to see them."

"Show me," I said.

The new group was settled into one of the larger unowned apartments (which were in surplus thanks to generations of Overseers), and were already dressed in Vault suits. An older woman was sitting on the couch, her arm around two children; a boy and a girl. They weren't asleep, but looked tired, and the woman's Vault suit hung a little too loosely on her body, which was unsettling; Vault suits were one-size-fits-all and usually bordering on skin-tight. I remembered when Amata had gone through a growth spurt and spent days being self-conscious about her Vault suit clinging to her body (with the Tunnel Snakes snickering, obviously).

A man somewhere in between teenager and adult stepped forward. He was probably no younger than me, but in his pale green eyes I saw the resolve and decisive nature of a hardened Wastelander, one who does what's best for his people.

"I'm Michael," he extended a hand. "You're the Overseer?"

I nodded. "Ryan Moore. I'm sorry for not meeting you sooner. I only arrived back last night and…"

I took a breath. "Given what happened last night…"

Michael held up a hand. I noticed a few small, faded scars. "I understand. It's not my place to judge how you handle your own affairs. I'm just glad you got back to us. So, what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I wanted to discuss what brought you here to the Vault," I said. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Michael and I sat down at the dining table with two other newcomers; an elderly man with grey hair and a rather long grey beard and a much younger man. He was easily the most well-kept of them all, with his brown hair cut short and not a strand of facial hair visible. His thick glasses gave made him look like a bit of a nerd, but the type that would be popular anyway. Michael introduced them respectively as Lincoln and Phillip Richardson.

"Phillip is my grandson," Lincoln said quietly, his eyes fixed on me with a gaze of steel.

I gave a respectful nod, then motioned for Michael to speak.

"With respect, Overseer," he said. "We've come from the Commonwealth; it's what's left of Massachusetts. Our farm was destroyed by Raiders, and we barely made it to D.C alive."

His eyes became slightly watery. "We…lost a lot of people. My father was one of them."

I dropped my gaze and let out a breath. "I'm sorry. I know what's it's like. I never met my mother."

"Thanks. It's good to meet someone who really cares. Look, I can understand if you don't want us to stay. But please, at least treat my mother and siblings. They won't last without food and medicine. I'm willing to do whatever you want me to do."

I looked into his face. I could see in his eyes that he was prepared for the worst. "You can stay."

His jaw dropped and his eyebrows disappeared up behind his mop of brown/red hair. "You'll… you'll let us stay?"

"I won't see children turned away from this Vault," I said. "And we've got room for three times our current capacity. I'll arrange medical treatment, accommodation and, if you feel up to it, information on work."

"My God, thank you!" he said, leaning back and letting out a breath of relief. "I won't forget what you did for us today!"

The woman with her children looked at me over her son's shoulder, her mouth wide open making the shape of a zero. It turned into a smile, and tears of joy streamed down her cheeks.

"I'll get things arranged," I said. "Unless there's anything else, there's something else I have to do."

"Um, just one more thing sir," Phillip finally said, raising his hand like a polite student. "I grew up in Vault 81 in the Commonwealth and studied engineering and science. I'd be most valuable in Maintenance."

"We'd appreciate that. Talk to Stanley Armstrong. He's head of Maintenance. God knows he'll be grateful for another man on board."

Amata let out a breath after we left. "You didn't even hesitate back there."

"The choice was clear. I wasn't about to leave them out in the cold," I replied as we walked to the Kendall apartment. "Besides, the world's full of too many cold-hearted bastards already. I'm not going to be one of them."

I pressed the buzzer outside the Kendall family apartment, and the door slid open to reveal John.

"Oh, I didn't know you were back," he told me. "You know what happene, then?"

"Amata told me," I replied. "Are Gloria and Susie here? I was hoping to talk to them myself."

"Yeah, Christine said you'd be coming. Come on in."

Gloria and Susie Mack were at the dining table finishing off the leftovers Christine had brought them. They looked exhausted.

"Is this a bad time?" I asked. They both shook their heads and I sat down.

"I heard what happened. Are you guys okay?"

 _Well obviously not,_ I thought, _They've lost half their family over the past month. They're probably not okay._

"We're…. okay, all things considered," Susie said, which surprised me. "I knew it was going to blow up eventually. I just didn't expect it to be like this."

"I don't where I went wrong," said Gloria. "I tried to raise both my sons right. I guess Allen just had too much influence on them…"

"Don't blame yourself," I said. "Allen was a loose cannon. It took three security guards to wrangle him in. No offense, but he's a bit crazy."

'A bit crazy' was a massive understatement, but I didn't want to seem like I was badmouthing her family. Gloria gave me a look that said, _I guess you're right._

"So what do you plan to do now?" I asked. Susie exchanged a look with her mother; they evidently hadn't given it much thought.

"We'll get our own apartment I guess," Gloria said. "I just want to get away from Allen. He's destroyed this family enough already."

"I'll handle Allen," I assured her. "I don't like the idea of kicking people out, but I might not have a choice in his case."

"He's tried getting help," Gloria told me. "It doesn't work. It might just be better to…let him go."

I took a breath and collected my thoughts. "I'll let you know when I've made a decision."

John gave me an approving nod as we left. It reminded me of how young I was, and how much my position as Overseer was down to chance.

"What's the plan now?" Amata asked me in the corridor.

"Now that the Brotherhood is in on the fold, I want to fortify the area outside," I told her as we walked. "I'm gonna bring Stanley outside to have a look around. Meet us outside with two security guards."

"Got it."

The five of us (me, Amata, Stanley and the two guards) stood at the Overlook outside the Vault. A hot wind was blowing, covering our legs with dust.

"Any ideas, Stanley?" I said, bringing a hand up to shield my face.

"Short term?" Stanley replied. "We can't do much on this end; the grounds too uneven. I think our best chances are sealing this side off and building on the cliff above."

He pointed up at the cliff above the entrance. "We build a staircase or something and work forward from their. In the long term, when we get some more able bodies, we might be able to do some work in Springvale. All we'd need was manpower and materials."

We climbed up the cliff so that we'd be standing above the Vault entrance and looked around. To the west, the Wasteland stretched on for miles. A flat, open area to build on. I could picture it in my head; the Overlook would be sealed off and outside would be some kind of walkway leading up to the entrance. There was only one problem; materials.

Amata suggested we bring down portions of the highway, which ran almost directly over the Vault.

"We could wire the pillars with explosives and detonate them remotely," she suggested. "We've got some old laser weapons in Storage that we could break it down with."

Stanley examined the standing portion of the freeway, which stood on one cracked pillar and looked ready to come down any day now. "I suppose we could try that. This concrete should do fine."

"Okay then," I said. "I'll head over to Moira's and see if she's got any explosives."

"Right now?" Stanley replied, looking puzzled.

"May as well," I said with a shrug. "Megaton's only a five-minute walk. Amata, can you head back and go get my bottlecap pouch? It's on my desk."

"Sure."

"Thanks. Officer Richards, go with her. Meet the rest of us outside of Craterside Supply. Stanley, Officer Park, come with me."

Amata and Richards disappeared inside the Vault while the ,rest of us made our way to Megaton through Springvale. Lucas Simms was on patrol inside the fence when we arrived, and gave us a friendly wave. I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Mornin' Ryan," he called out.

"Well it's eleven o'clock, but good morning anyway," I replied.

"Still morning," Simms said with a shrug. "What brings you into town, friend?"

"Need some explosives," I explained. "Preferably remote-detonated. I'm on my way to Moira's now."

Simms raised an eyebrow. "Explosives? What could a Vault need those for?"

"We're bringing down the old freeway and using the concrete to fortify the entrance. We need explosives for that."

Simms nodded in understanding. "Alright. I'll let everyone around town know. Hate to have them rushing out with their guns ready for a massacre."

"Thanks Sheriff."

I was in luck; when I asked Moira if she had explosives and remote detonators, her face little up.

"Well, I don't have _exactly_ that," she admitted with a brief grimace, as if not having exactly something was a tragedy. "But I do have something that'll work! Here, just give me one sec..."

She turned around and reached inside the locker behind the counter and pulled out three small round frag mines.

"I was tinkering with these just yesterday," she told me, placing them on the counter. "They've all been set to a timer that you can activate remotely, so you can get out of there before it blows! Need any help setting them up?"

I hesitated and turned towards Stanley, who had just arrived during Moira's story. He gave a shrug and said, "I guess a second set of hands wouldn't hurt."

"Guess that's a yes," I said, turning back to Moira. "How much for these three?"

"Just 60 caps."

I almost laughed. "Moira, you know these are more than 20 caps each! I can't rip you off like that!"

"No really, it's fine," Moira insisted as Amata handed me a leather pouch bulging with caps. "I'm serious!"

"C'mon Moira," I said. "I can't take these for less than a hundred. Here, 150 caps should cover the three of these."

Moira hesitated and stared at the caps pouch, torn between good nature and a good offer. Finally, she said, "Okay, but only a hundred caps."

"Deal," I said, placing the required amount on the counter in exchange for the three modified frag mines."

"Okay, just let me close up shop and I'll meet you out there," said Moira before turning to the mercenary that guarded the store. "If anyone shows up, could you just let them know I'm out for a few minutes?"

The merc grunted in response, which to Moira was apparently a 'yes'.

We made our way over to the crumbling overpass south of Vault 101. It was the first time I'd seen Moira outside of her store, let alone outside of Megaton. She kept glancing around as if afraid something would jump out at her, even though the only cover around were a few small rocks that wouldn't hide a mole rat.

A sudden thought occurred to me. "Moira, can I ask where you're from?"  
"A place called Canterbury Commons," she replied. She seemed less paranoid now that she was talking. "Caravan traders stop there a lot. It's how I got into the junk business."

"Did you come down here alone?" Amata asked.

"Alone? No, I'd never make it on my own," Moira shook her head. "I tagged along with a caravan trader on his way to Megaton, and that's where I set up shop."

We stopped in front of one of the crumbling pillars that held up a portion of the freeway. I set one of the mines down at the base of the pillar and handed one each to Stanley and Moira.

"Take those to the next two pillars and set them for a thirty-second countdown," I told them. "Officer Park, go back to the Vault and tell everyone what we're doing and that there's no danger. Come back with a case of laser pistols and energy cells. Hopefully we can get to work breaking this thing down today."

Everyone did as instructed and I set my own frag mine for 30 seconds. Moira had given me the detonator, which was still on safety mode.

When everyone was finished, we all stood a good distance away, taking cover behind some rocks.

"Alright, cover your ears," I advised holding the detonator in my sweating hand. I pressed the button, and the countdown began.

 _30, 29, 28, 27…_

We all peeked out over the rocks, our hands covering our ears, ready to duck back down if a fireball or piece of debris flew at us. I glanced down at the timer.

 _14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9…_

I braced myself for the sound, holding my hands tightly over my ears.

 _4, 3, 2, 1, 0._

Dust and dirt rose up, followed quickly by a small fireball. Concrete disappeared into the dust cloud, the pillar bringing the crumbling road above it down. The entire thing slammed into the ground and kicked up more dust.

When everything settled, I brought my hands away from my ears. They were ringing, but I was otherwise fine. The others were emerging from cover, Officers Park and Richards shaking their heads as if trying to get rid of the ringing.

"Everyone okay?" I called out loudly. Everyone nodded. "Okay. Park, Richards, Amata, Stanley; grab a laser pistol and a few energy cells."

The case Park had brought out was a six-case, leaving one unused pistol.

"Moira, you wanna tag along?" I asked.

"Oh sure! I've got time!" she replied eagerly, grabbing the remaining weapon and loading it.

"Alright people," I called loudly to the group. "For now we'll just cut off the ends so that we have some smooth blocks to work with. So everyone find an edge and just cut it off."

Everyone spread out across the three collapsed road pieces, and aimed at the uneven edges. Six red beams of energy shot out from our weapons, cutting straight through the concrete. The useless edge pieces fell away, leaving smooth concrete behind them.

"Okay, that's enough for now," I called out. "We'll get some people out here tomorrow and clear the useless chunks away. Stanley, I want you working on a blueprint for a surface station with Jonas. Oh, and Moira-"

I turned to her and lowered my voice. "Thanks for the help," I said, taking about fifty bottlecaps out of the pouch. I held them out to her, only for Moira to shake her head.

"Nope! I've taken enough money from you guys already. Anyway, I should be getting back before the angry mob of customers comes looking for me."

"Do you want me to have a guard go with you?"

"Nah, it's okay. See ya around!"

She turned and walked away, placing the laser pistol and remaining energy cells back in their case.

We were all back at the Vault by noon, congratulating each other on some real progress. The Vault was blissfully cool compared to the midday heat of the Wasteland.

"Good work everyone," I said as we reached the atrium. Every went their separate ways, except for Amata and I. So we just…walked. There was no real destination.

"I never asked you how you're feeling today," I told her.

"I'm…better," she replied. "I think it was mostly the shock. Now that that's worn off, I'm okay. I guess it was inevitable, but I but I thought it would happen out there in the Wasteland, not in here."

She shook her head. "Anyway, I'll be okay. William wants to go ahead with rescuing his men as soon as possible. Do we have any details set?"

"The Brotherhood is sending one of their best teams here to coordinate a rescue," I told her. "They should be arriving within a few days."

It was within just two days that they arrived. And to my surprise, the team of power armor-clad soldiers was led by Sentinel Sarah Lyons.

"It's been too long, Overseer," she said sarcastically, stepping through the Vault door.

"Sentinel Lyons," I said politely. "I thought you were at the Jefferson Memorial."

"You can tell your father the Memorial's clear," she replied. "Only a few Super Mutants around the building. We've got Paladins and Knights cleaning the place up now."

Another Brotherhood soldier, a black woman with short hair and a blank look stepped up to her side. Sarah glanced at her.

"This is Star Paladin Cross," she said. "She apparently escorted you and your father to Vault 101. I asked her to accompany us."

"Ryan Moore," Cross said, giving me a piercing stare. "You won't remember me, but I ensured that you and James reached the safety of Vault 101 after your mother's death. She'd be proud to see you now."

"Thank you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Lyons glanced at me, but the understanding look she gave me reassured me that she wasn't judging me. "My father works in the clinic now. Would you like to see him?"

"I'd be glad to," Cross said simply.

I turned and motioned for her to follow me, Sarah following closely behind. As they passed, Sarah whispered to me, "Don't be put off. Paladin Cross isn't exactly…human."

That just left me with more questions, but I kept my mouth shut.

My father looked up from his desk in the clinic when we walked in. His eyes passed over Cross, then did a double-take and widened.

"Cross?" he said, standing up.

"Hello James," she said, allowing herself a small smile. "Are you well?"

James gave a small shrug. "Well enough. The past 20 years have been kind to you."

"Thank you, but the same can't be said for you, I'm afraid," Cross replied, her mouth twitching while Sarah Lyons and I barely kept ourselves from laughing. My father shook his head.

"Well, it's good to see you," he finally said.

"It's James, correct?" Sarah spoke up, stepping forward. "You'll be glad to know the Jefferson Memorial is under Brotherhood control. The Enclave won't get anywhere near it."

James gave a relieved look. "Thank God. Any damage?"

"Only what you'd expect after twenty years of abandonment," replied Sarah. "Don't worry, we'll get the place up and running for you."

James nodded, but glanced over at me. "The Vault will be left without a doctor."

"We've got ample medical staff," Lyons assured him. "Two or three doctors enough?"

"It's more than what this Vault has now," James said grimly. "Jonas and I do our best, but this Vault will need more staff to accommodate."

"Don't worry dad. We'll get it sorted," I assured him. "Sentinel, should we get to business?"

I called the Council together, smiling as I noticed that we'd had more impromptu meetings than scheduled ones. Two of the Knights accompanying Sarah wheeled a whiteboard into the Operations room, taken up entirely by a map of the area surrounding Minefield.

"The Enclave has placed an energy field around the town," Sarah reported to the group, drawing quizzical looks. "It's supported by a generator in the center of town, and the only gap is from the south."

She pointed to a spot just south of the town center, and I cringed at the lack of cover the area would provide.

"They'll have that area covered," I spoke up. "How will we get in?"

"A little toy from our lab," Sarah said with a grin as she reached down to her belt and unclipped a red-ish canister with a pin. "Nuka-grenades. All it takes is one good throw to throw it over the edge. If we hit them from the north- "she pointed to the northern section of the map, "-they'll all come running, and whoever we send out there will be able to get away and we can hit them from the south entrance before they know what's happening. They've got two vertibirds on the eastern hill. We can use those to transport as much tech back to the Citadel while the prisoners go back to the Vault on foot."

"I've already got volunteers to undertake power armor training," Gomez said, standing up and leaning over the table to hand her a list of names. Sarah nodded, and while she surveyed the list, I looked around and saw that Amata was frowning.

"Something on your mind?" I asked her quietly. She paused, as if unsure if she should speak up."

"Will the prisoners be able to make it on foot?" she asked Sarah suddenly. "If the Enclave has vertibirds, then will our men be able to get away in time?"

There were a few nods as people echoed her concern.

"If we pull this off within the right timeframe, then it shouldn't be a problem," Sarah assured her. "The Enclave hates traitors, but they won't send out vertibirds unless they know they'll be able to catch them. As long as we can rush in, take the place over, and get out of there before they can radio for help, then your guys will be outta there."

Amata nodded, but still looked worried. So when the briefing concluded and the plans were set, I stayed behind with her.

"You okay?" I asked, when the last of the others left.

"It's war," Amata said bitterly. "How can anyone be okay with it?"

Her gaze dropped to the floor, and in a distant voice she said, "Just seeing Wally die made me break down. How do these people manage to do the things they do? God, all the wars we learnt about from Brotch…how many people had to suffer because we're all such savages?"

"It's just how humans are," I said quietly. "Just an endless cycle of violence. It's amazing how we haven't destroyed ourselves yet."

I suddenly realized how I sounded. "Jesus. Sorry Amata, I sound like a cynical prick."

Amata snorted with laughter. "I'd be worried if you didn't, Ryan Moore. Besides, I like you as a cynic, because I know I'm the only one who can break you out of a bad mood."

The corners of my mouth twitched as I tried to hold back a grin. "No wonder your dad hated me. Must have been paranoid that I'd corrupt you with my bad mood."

Amata grinned at me. "Or that we'd end up sleeping together. I'm surprised hormones didn't do their work on either of us," she said, then cocked an eyebrow at me. "Unless you've been inviting people into your bed?"

"Ha, nope. I'm just as celibate as you."

I suddenly realized that there was something off about the way she spoke, as if she was fearing my answer. My smile faded, and Amata's smug look was replaced by a look of fear.

She turned pale, which was saying something given that she and her father were Hispanic. "Ryan, I…"

She gave an angry sign and shoved her hair out of her face. "Damn it! Ryan, I…I think I love you."


	8. Chapter 8

"Amata, I…"

Her words had thrown me off-guard completely. I'd built up a wall around myself as we'd grown up, trying to push from my mind the one thing that we'd both have to think about at some point.

When Alphonse had been in power, our teenage years had been filled with propaganda telling us to procreate. This was before we knew of the outside world, so everyone had just gone along with it even when we hated it. Amata and I never mentioned it (on account of it never happening), but we knew that there was only one pairing that could have made us remotely happy.

I'd never fully convinced myself that she felt the same way, nor had I dared ever bring up anything remotely related to the idea of us being a couple. I'd always worried that if she didn't feel the same way, our friendship would change for the worse.

"I can't keep it back anymore," Amata whispered as I sat down. "We never really mentioned it growing up, but I think we both knew what the most likely pairing was, right?"

I nodded, unable to keep from shaking. "It was the only choiced I'd be happy with."

I finally found the strength to meet her gaze. There was no disappointment at my reaction in her eyes. All I saw was the same warmth that had always been there, stronger than ever.

"Amata…" I whispered, my eyes filling with tears, "I love you more than anyone else in the world. I always saw us as brother and sister or cousins, but I know there's way more than that. I just…I'm a little scared."

"Of what?" Amata asked, frowning.

"Just…well, you know I've never been in a relationship before. The reason I never tried to take things further with us was because I was thinking of the worst case scenario. I was worried that if you weren't interested, or if it didn't work out…"

"That we couldn't go back to the way we were?" Amata asked.

I nodded. "I'm sorry. I know this wasn't what you wanted."

"All I want is to be honest with you," Amata said. "Ryan, I want you in my life, even if we're just friends. I'll be here for you no matter what happens."

She took my hand in her own gently, entwining our fingers. "I love you, Ryan, and that'll never change. Whether we're friends, siblings or a couple, I won't leave you ever."

Despite the butterflies in my stomach, I don't protest when she leans forward to kiss me, nor do I protest when our lips meet. A tingling sensation spreads through me. Amata rested a hand on my wrist while I rested mine on her waist, causing her to shudder.

We ended up back in my bedroom, any notion of taking it slow being forgotten until the next morning. I woke up feeling strangely refreshed and alive, thinking the experience to be a dream until I looked to my side and saw Amata curled up next to me under the blankets.

She must have felt me move sightly, because her eyes opened and she looked up at me tiredly.

"Ryan?" she murmured sleepily. "Was I dreaming?"

I kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yep. I'm in heaven instead."

"We've still got a Vault to run," I reminded her. "C'mon, we'd better get up before your dad throws a fit."

Sarah and her guards were in the break room with James and my father when we arrived. We'd walked down hand-in-hand, but separated before joining the others; a relationship was the last thing people wanted to hear about in wartime.

"You're in a good mood," James told Ryan, sipping from a mug.

"Was in a good mood," Ryan corrected, peering into the fridge and frowning. "Where's my Cola?"

"My bad," Sarah said sheepishly, gesturing to the recycling bin where four empty glasses of Nuka Cola sat. "There's a vending machine outside the hall, I believe."

"I know where the vending machines are," Ryan shot back. "It's my Vault, remember?"

Ryan left quickly, and I leaned close to Sarah. "Never take Ryan's Nuka-Cola. He gets real cranky."

"I'll remember that," said Sarah with a grin. "Cross is leaving with James today. They'll head to the Citadel and rendezvous with a research team. Work on the purifier should resume by the end of the week."

"Didn't the researchers hit a dead end the last time?" I asked, looking at James.

"By the time we ran into trouble, the super mutant attacks were increasing," James explained. "The Brotherhood was already losing manpower by the time we started hitting dead ends. By the time Ryan was born, we were all burned out. With a fresh team and fresh manpower, I'm sure we'll get somewhere."

"The super mutants will still be a problem," Sarah warned. "In 20 years of being here we've never been able to figure out where they're coming from. We've lost a lot of the old crew from California, and the new recruits are dumb as Brahmin shit. The D.C ruins are crawling with them."

Ryan returned, holding up a glass bottle of Nuka Cola for Sarah to see. "So what's the plan for today?"

"I'm going to the Jefferson Memorial with Cross once the Brotherhood doctors arrive," James said. "The assault team will arrive with them, and you guys can plan out your operation."

"When can we go ahead with it?" Ryan asked Sarah.

"It'll be over by the end of the week at the latest," Sarah reported. "When radios in D.C started picking up the Enclave station, we kept our eyes peeled for any sigh that they were in the C.W. We've had eyes on Minefield since our men went quiet there. Once your security guards can use laser weapons and power armor, we'll be ready to move."

"There's, uh, another matter," Sarah said awkwardly, standing up. "Ryan, I'll be honest with you. War's a bloodbath, and it's more than likely we'll all lose a man or two out there. You gotta be ready for that."

The mood in the room suddenly became very tense. James stared down at the ground, while the others kept their eyes on Ryan.

"Vault 101's population is still quite small," he said. "If we lose men out there, we need more people to stop our population from declining any further."

"How many people can the Vault hold?" Sarah asked.

"At the absolute most, 1000 people," I replied. "But that would mean shared quarters and the bare minimum when it comes to living conditions. If we open up and restore the lower sections of the Vault, we can have around 800 people living comfortably."

"You'll be lucky to find half of that in the entire Capital Wasteland," James said, "let alone people who can operate Vault machinery."

"We can educate people as they come," Ryan said. "At the moment, we have enough staff to keep the Vault running. With some Brotherhood personnel here, we can keep running until more people come in."

"Fair enough," said Sarah. "Just remember this; if you're going to send men out there, you'll have to expect that some of them won't come back."

* * *

Those words rang in my head over and over as the preparations were made. Since the Brotherhood had no way to move power armor without using it themselves, the Vault 101 recruits were escorted to the Citadel. The youngest among them had been a legal adult for just two months.

The entire affair was draining. Our Vault was small enough that almost everyone knew each other as acquaintances at the very least, and the loss of even one man would be felt throughout. I made a commitment early on that, if we lost a man, I would be the one to tell the family. It seemed only fair, as I would be the one sending them to their death.

Nobody knew the details of the plan, but word got around the Vault that someone serious was going on. How could they not? We could hardly send those men out to risk their lives without telling their families?

I watched the group of twelve head to the Vault door from my office window on the day of the siege. They were of varying ages, but all had looks of either excitement, nervousness and outright pants-shitting terror on their faces.

"I should be out there with them," I muttered. "How can I sit here in a cushy Vault while those men die out there in the Wasteland?"

"You're not a soldier, Ryan," Amata told me. "What good would you do dying out there? You're the Overseer, you're important."

"What makes me more important than anyone else in the Vault?" I snapped, causing her to flinch. "I'm just one guy, and there are plenty of other people in the Vault as smart as me. I'm no more special than the men I'm sending out to die."

"You don't know that they'll die," Amata said.

"Of course they're going to die!" I snapped. "Amata, you've seen what the world is out there! How people will stab you in the back before they say hello. If the Enclave doesn't kill them, then what about Talon Company or the Raiders? What chance have they got out there thanks to us?"

"You're pinning this on me now?" Amata said, scowling. "Ryan, you gave this plan the green-light just as I did. It's too late for second thoughts, Ryan!"

"Then you take this job then if you think you're so good!" I shouted, kicking my desk chair aside in anger. "You'll probably do better than me anyway. If I hadn't acted like some wasteland saviour and disarmed that fucking bomb, maybe we wouldn't be in this spot in the first place!"

"If that's really how you feel, then you just let me know!" Amata shot back. "If you think you can't handle this job, then tell me right now and I'll take your place. Is that what you want?!"

I opened my mouth, ready to throw my resignation right at her, but my anger subsided almost as quickly as it came. Breathing deeply to calm down, I looked at the mess my outburst had caused. Kicking my chair aside had knocked over a tray of forms and a tin of pens, scattering their contents all over the floor.

Sighing, I knelt down to pick them up. Amata, her anger apparently gone too, knelt down to help me.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I just don't know how long I can do this."

"I'm sorry too," Amata said back. "I'm with you, Ryan. And so is everyone else. If you think you can't handle, then you need to tell me."

I didn't respond, cleaning up the rest of the mess in silence and placing my chair upright, and sinking onto the couch by the door when we were finished.

"I'm not putting you through all this shit," I muttered as Amata sat down next to me. "People expect you to have all the answers. It's hell."

"I can do it," Amata replied. "I was raised to be Overseer. If you need me to take over, then I can do it."

"The Vault won't hear the end of it," I murmured. "Imagine how embarrassing it'll be; the first democratically elected Overseer quitting because he couldn't take it. I can hear the Wasteland laughing now."

There was a long silence in which we both said nothing, as there was nothing to say. I knew that resigning would make me – and Vault 101 – a laughing stock. Who would take the Vault seriously if I resigned without even finishing a term as Overseer?

"I hate when we fight," said Amata.

"Me too," I agreed. Over our nineteen years of friendship (and five days of something more), we'd hardly ever gotten in a fight. We'd have those minor spats here and there, but it was rare that we didn't get over them within a few seconds.

"Have you thought any more about…well, us?"

"Yeah, a lot," I replied. "Amata, I mean it when I say I love you. Nothing would make me happier than to spend every day with you, no matter how corny that just sounded. But you've seen what this job is doing to me. I can't put you through all that crap."

"Why does that stop you?" Amata asked. "You'll have these problems whether we're dating or just friends. I'm not making you go through all this on your own."

"Amata, this isn't the best time for romance," I replied. "With everything going on most of the conversations we've had have been business. We're barely maintaining a friendship."

I sighed. "And I'll admit, I'm plain nervous. I've never been in a relationship before. With everything that's going on, how can I not fuck everything up?"

"We don't have to worry about that," Amata said quietly. "Some people think that's what love's about, expectations and standards. Love shouldn't be about that. Love shouldn't be about being afraid of messing up or saying the wrong thing."

The buzzer on the office door sounded and we both jumped. I reached over to open the door, allowing Gomez to step in.

"Sir, ma'am, we have a live feed of the operation ready."

"Good," I said, turning to Amata. "Ready?"

"Ready."


End file.
